


Sex and Lies

by SimonsSavior



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caring Simon, F/M, Fucking, Gentle Sex, Negan (Walking Dead) Being an Asshole, Negan (Walking Dead) Swears, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Oral, Rough Sex, Smut, The Sanctuary, saviors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-02-07 02:09:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12831084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimonsSavior/pseuds/SimonsSavior
Summary: Negan has made it quite explicit in the past that he willnottolerate his wives cheating on him. And yet, despite the consequences, neither you nor Simon are able to put an end to your passionate and dangerous love affair.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, couple of things you should know before reading:  
> First off, this began as a Christmas fic challenge, so Christmas is very briefly mentioned in the beginning. But it is _not_ a theme that runs throughout the fic.  
>  Secondly, please be aware of *attempted rape, and non-con themes.  
> Mostly this fic is an excuse to write about fucking both Negan and Simon repeatedly. So if that's what you're down for, great! But don't worry, it has plot, it's not just shameless smut...  
> Tags and Character tags are updated as the chapters are updated.  
> Please enjoy and leave feedback if you'd like!!

“I miss Christmas.” You mutter, stretching out in Negan’s luxurious, king-sized bed. You hadn’t quite realized – in your half asleep state – you’d said it out loud. Not until Negan shifts from his place on the edge of the bed, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you.

“What the shit, doll?” He frowns.

“I was – I was thinking out loud, sorry.” You shrug and stare up at the grey window panes on the opposite side of the room. A mild frost clings to the outside of the glass. The winter had definitely set in in the last few weeks.

Since becoming one of Negan’s wives you find you have a lot of spare time to sit and think about stupid things; how the world used to be, for example. It’s sometimes easy to forget, when living inside the safety of The Sanctuary, all the horrors that exist outside of its walls.

“You must miss stuff too.” You protest as he stares at you.

“Sure.” He chuckles, turning away to pull on his combat boots. “I miss football and drinking in bars and jacking off to internet porn.” He shakes his head with a laugh. “I don’t fucking miss Christmas.” You watch as he stands to retrieve a clean white t-shirt, wearing only his faded grey pants, and boots. You supress an annoyed huff and turn away, rolling onto your side.

There’s a dip in the mattress as Negan leans behind you. His hand slides beneath the duvet; warm, rough hands trail over your skin and you can’t deny the shiver that travels up your spine at his touch.

You don’t love Negan; You could never love him. In fact, there’s a good portion of you that doesn’t even _like_ Negan. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the way he makes you feel when he touches you in just the right way –

“Mhm…” you whimper softly as he strokes a long finger between your folds.

“Besides,” he growls against your ear, pushing his finger slowly into you. “Having women like you to fuck as and when I please, doll,” he continues to fuck you slowly with his finger, “It’s like Christmas every goddamn, mother-fucking day.” You sigh with a little disappointment as he retracts his finger, but then you hear the familiar clink of his belt buckle being unfastened and he pulls your ass against his already hardened cock. You grind your ass against his erection, and he wastes no time in replacing his fingers with his thick length, slamming into you and filling you completely with one hard thrust.

You can’t help the moan that escapes you at the sensation of him driving into you, and it’s clear he doesn’t intend to take his time this morning; instead thrusting repeatedly into you at a hard and fast pace. His fingers dip between your thighs and he rubs rough circles against your clit. Your fingers dig into the mattress as he fucks you.

“Come for me.” He growls. And as though it were that simple, you find yourself unable to resist release any longer and you come hard at his demand. Your body shudders under his touch as he continuously fucks you; and within moments he reaches his own orgasm. He groans as he releases his hot seed deep inside of you, thrusting a couple more times before stilling.

He lies for a short while, catching his breath before pulling away and rolling onto his back to fasten his pants. You feel him climb up from the bed but you don’t turn to face him. “I gotta go. Got some fucking business to attend to. Take your time. Take a shower. Whatever, doll. And when you see Frankie, tell her I want to see her tonight.”

“Yes, Negan.” You respond, hearing the door opening before he disappears from the room, leaving you entirely alone.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Frankie.” You smile at the attractive young red-head sitting at the bar. She looks up at you.

“Hey, you were gone all night, everything alright?” She questions, pulling you into a hug and gazing at you. You nod.

“Yeah. Negan wanted me to stay the night…” You glance at Amber who is also perched by the bar, and sipping from a tall wine glass. She sighs and pours more wine into her glass. You turn your attention back to Frankie. “He says it’s your turn tonight.” You smile sympathetically at her and she attempts to smile back, but you know it’s forced.

“That’s okay.” She takes a deep breath. “I don’t mind… Maybe he’ll just want a massage?” She suggests hopefully. You raise an eyebrow.

“Really, Frankie?”

She shrugs. “Well, by the sounds of it you two were at it all night. You never know, maybe he’s-”

Amber cuts her off. “He’s never had enough, Frankie. You know that.” She swallows down a mouthful of her drink. “He only stops screwing long enough to give orders to his men.” She rolls her eyes and you notice how blood-shot they are. You pull Frankie to one side, leaving Amber to drink alone.

“Is she okay?” You ask.

“Of course she isn’t. She’s been crying all night again. After what he did to Mark… She’s not taking it well.” You cringe at the memory of Negan holding an iron to Mark’s face. The memory is haunting enough for you and you can’t imagine how Amber must feel. It makes you question your own choices.

“Look after her.” You tell Frankie, turning toward your shared bathroom.

“What?” Frankie follows you.

Standing in front of a mirror you adjust your hair, eyes falling down to the marks on your shoulder. You run your fingers along the reddened flesh; a reminder from Negan you belong to him. “Have you seen my black mascara? The good one? I think you borrowed it the other day.”

Frankie narrows her eyes. “Sure.” She sighs, rummaging on a nearby shelf. “You’re going to see him again aren’t you?”

“I didn’t say that.” You protest.

“But you are, aren’t you?”

You look down before turning to Frankie. “Yes. Okay, I need to see him.” Frankie shakes her head; her red locks falling around her shoulders. “I have to.”

“You don’t have to! Are you insane? If Negan finds out-”

“He won’t find out! Look we’re careful.”

“Amber was careful too,” Frankie warns.

You turn away to apply your mascara, ignoring Frankie’s concerns.

“What’s happening?” You both turn your attention to the doorway to find Amber lingering with her wine glass.

“Frankie don’t-” you warn.

But she blurts it to Amber, regardless. “She’s going to see Simon again.” She huffs, folding her arms and frowning at you with irritation. Amber swallows hard and shakes her head. “Well?” Frankie demands. “Say something; tell her what an idiot she’s being.” Amber stays silent, her eyes glassy. Frankie huffs and turns back to face you. “You’re an idiot.”

“Thanks for that assessment.” You smile sarcastically before finishing off your mascara. Frankie sighs – again – quite deliberately and strides out of the bathroom, pushing past Amber as she does so. You glance at Amber out of the corner of your eyes and she turns and follows Frankie.

You finish up in the bathroom and find Frankie sitting on the couch, watching you. “Don’t think I don’t know,” you begin. “I know I’m an idiot. I know it’s stupid but I can’t help it. I need Simon. He keeps me… Sane.” You stare at Frankie, searching for understanding in her eyes. You know she’s worried for you; and she doesn’t want to have to deal with you the way she does Amber.

She laughs softly. “Sane? Simon keeps you sane? The guy’s a nutcase.”

You grin. “No, he’s not.” Frankie raises an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe he’s a little… eccentric?” The pair of you stifle a giggle. “Look, he’s good to me. He cares about me.”

“If he cared that much he wouldn’t be fucking you behind Negan’s back.”

“It’s not like that.”

“You mean you’re not fucking?”

“We are fucking.”

Frankie smiles again. “Oh, really?” She feigns surprise and you attempt to hide a smirk. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”


	2. Chapter 2

You knock against the door, feeling a fluttering of nerves in the pit of your stomach as you wait for it to open. You don’t know why you’re nervous. You suppose it’s more anticipation than nerves because it’s been almost a week since you had managed to see Simon. You were careful about scheduling your time together; but Simon being Negan’s right-hand man had its advantages – he always knew where Negan had to be and what he was doing. Today, he was going to be busy on business with Dwight, away from The Sanctuary. Simon had been left in charge.

You pull down your black dress a little and adjust your cleavage as you wait, wanting to give Simon the best impression. You run your hand through your hair just as the door pulls open.

Standing in the doorway is Simon; dressed in his usual attire of dark pants and short sleeved, khaki shirt. “Well look at this!” He grins wide and swings open the door, gesturing for you to enter his room. His eyes are wide as they travel over your figure. He whistles as he closes the door. “I’ve missed you,” he admits, placing his large, rough hands either side of you face. You smile up at him and he pulls you close toward him, his lips pressing gently against yours.

He moves away, releasing you from his grasp momentarily. “That dress has gotta go.” He insists. And you certainly won’t argue because you hate the idea of wearing an outfit picked by Negan when you’re with Simon. Although when you’re with Simon you mostly find yourself wearing nothing at all. Not that that’s a complaint, either.

Simon moves around you, trailing his hands over your arms and across your back, finding the zip of the dress. And his touch sends shivers through you in an entirely different way than when you’re with Negan; with Negan, it’s about the sex; it has only ever been about the sex. But with Simon it’s so much more.

He pulls the zipper and eases the dress from your shoulders, leaving you standing in nothing but your red lace bra and matching panties. His hands run over your neck and shoulders, tracing the marks left by Negan. “He did this?” He whispers, fingers lingering over the bruises. You nod. Simon sighs, agitated, before lowering his head and kissing your neck softly, his stubble and mustache lightly grazing you skin.

He wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you against his warm body. You close your eyes, rolling your head back against his shoulder and losing yourself in his warm embrace. He moves to the other side of your neck; his kisses so much gentler than Negan’s biting and possessive ones. Of course, Simon can be rough when he wants to be; but he knows what you need right now and it isn’t to be treated the way _Negan_ treats you.

And when he feels he’s done placing tender kisses over the bruises Negan had left, he lifts you quite abruptly and with ease and carries you to the bed. You can’t help grinning as you bury your face in his neck, inhaling his familiar scent.

He lays you down before unbuttoning and pulling off his own shirt, revealing his impressively muscular chest adorned with dark and greying hair. Sure, Negan has an impressive physique, too, but Simon is little more solid than Negan and his arms much thicker. You kick off you black heels as he drops down above you and you run your hands over his biceps.

“I need you,” you whisper, starring up into his round, dark eyes.

His stare is intense as his eyes are locked on yours, “It’s okay. You got me. I ain’t going anywhere.” He assures, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

And this time, his kisses are more urgent than before. His tongue parts your lips and you welcome the taste of him as you return his kiss with equal enthusiasm. You pull your legs up around his hips, feeling his erection press into you and straining against his pants. You silently curse the layer of fabric between you both.

And his kisses move along your jaw, down your neck and over you collar bone; and then his lips find their way to your chest, and he places more soft kisses against your hot skin. You arch beneath him as he moves to your breasts, his tongue now swirling over you nipple as he pulls down you bra. And then he’s alternating between kissing and sucking and licking, before paying as much attention to your other breast.

He continues to move downwards, moving his mouth over your stomach before placing teasing kisses over you already damp panties and you buck your hips, desperate for more but he pulls back up, licking a stripe over your body with his tongue.

Sliding his hands beneath you, Simon unclasps your bra, tugging it away from you and discarding it carelessly onto the floor. He wastes no time in doing the same with your underwear, dragging them away before changing his position and dropping between your legs. And as is usually the case, Simon has yet to remove the majority of his clothing.

His kisses continue along your inner thigh and his tongue soon finds its way to your pussy and he licks a stripe from your ass to your clit, causing the breath to catch in your throat. And his tongue laps at you, teasingly dipping inside before he works his way back to your clit, licking and sucking and doing everything right to elicit the scream he knows you’re holding back.

Bu it’s impossible to stay silent when he brings a finger up to your entrance, pushing inside and curling against you in a way he knows drives you close the edge. “Simon.” You groan as his tongue presses against you and he curls a second finger inside of you. “I’m…” But words fail you as he thrusts in and out and an explosion of intense pleasure courses through you; and for a moment it feels like it might never end, each wave more intense than the last. But gradually you fall from your high as Simon moves his mouth away from you, although he continues to fuck you with his fingers, causing you to moan breathlessly.

You close your eyes, fists clenched hard enough your knuckles are most likely turning white but eventually Simon stops and pulls his fingers out of you – somehow both a relief and a disappointment at the same time.

He pulls up, and rests at the edge of the bed, allowing you to catch your breath for a moment as he removes his boots and the remainder of his clothing. And then he’s beside you, balancing on his knees, his thick and veiny cock now free of restraint; and doesn’t matter how many times you’ve fucked, you never fail to be impressed by the size of him.

You reach out, wrapping your fingers around Simon’s throbbing cock. Starting slow you begin to pump your hand back forth around him. He watches you for a moment, before leaning further forward; his hand gripping the bed frame to steady himself. You know what he wants and without hesitation you pull yourself forward, bringing you mouth to his heavy length and licking at the beads of pre-come before running your tongue along the underside of him.

Simon breathes heavily as you open your mouth, placing your lips around his length. You tease with your tongue, licking and sucking whilst your hand continues to glide over him too; your other hand resting against his thigh. You attempt to take in as much of Simon as you can but you know it won’t be long before he’s sliding his way deeper into your throat. You tilt your head back further, inviting him to do just that, and now he’s controlling the pace; rocking his hips and fucking your mouth and you’re almost choking. But he knows how far he can take this without hurting you.

“Oh shit... That’s so, fucking good!” Simon exclaims. “But I need that pussy, darlin’,” And you’re thankful he does because you’ve never been more desperate for anything than you are for his cock to be buried deep inside of you right now.

He drops down above you once again and pushes your legs apart with his knees. You pull your arms around his heavy, broad shoulders as he settles his hips against yours you feel the head of his cock linger at your aching entrance. His breathing is heavy and your eyes are locked on one another as he presses his way steadily inside of you. He drags himself in and out slowly, ensuring to ease his full length inside gently. And you gasp each time he re-enters you, your head now rolling back against the bed, and when he finally fills you to the hilt you can’t help but moan his name again.

“Oh, God, Simon.” And as though to silence you he presses his mouth back against yours, and you taste each other on one another tongues as they collide fiercely and passionately. He begins to work up a slow and steady pace, rocking his hips rhythmically but you can’t help breaking the kiss to tell him to fuck you harder.

“Fuck…” He mumbles between kisses, thrusting harder and faster. You dig your nails into his shoulders as his breathing becomes ragged and he begins to move faster still. “Okay,” he breathes, “Shit,” and then he pulls out of you in time to shoot his release over your stomach and thighs; his body jerking as he grips his cock firmly with one hand.

And as much as the both of you wanted for Simon to be able to come deep inside you, you know you can’t take the risk. Of course, for Negan, it doesn’t seem to be a problem; none of his wives end up pregnant and rumor is Negan is sterile. Which is fortunate for both him and every woman he fucks. Simon, on the other hand, isn’t stupid enough to take the risk.

He hangs over you momentarily before dropping down and reaching behind him to the nightstand to retrieve a handful of tissues. He does his best to clean his release from you before pulling you close to him. He wraps a strong arm around you and holds you close to his chest, kissing your forehead.

“So…” You begin, looking up at him.

“So,” he nods, raising his eyebrows. “How’ve you been?” He grins. You smile back, both of you finding it amusing that somehow, the fucking always comes before the conversation when you spend any time together.

“You know, I’m okay, I guess. Frankie and I have gotten pretty close, recently. She’s a good friend…” Your words trail.

“But?”

“Why does there have to be a but?” You frown.

“I know you. So?”

“She thinks I’m an idiot for seeing you.” You shrug.

“You told her? About us?” He pulls back and stares at you with an expression that leaves you wondering if he’s worried or pissed off.

“It’s okay, she’s not telling anyone. Least of all Negan.” You assure him.

“Who else knows?”

“Just Amber.” You admit quietly.

“Amber? Maybe Frankie is right, you are an idiot.” He shakes his head.

“Hey.” You attempt to shove him in the chest in protest but his solid frame doesn’t budge. He smirks.

“I’m serious though. If she tells Mark-”

“She won’t. She won’t talk to Mark. She’s terrified of what Negan will do to the both of them if they’re seen together.”

He sighs and pulls you close to him again.

“I had to tell them. Frankie kept asking questions. Wanted to know where I was disappearing to.” You think back to the last time you had scheduled to meet Simon. Negan had made a sudden change of plans and decided he wanted to see you but your dumb ass was so determined to see Simon that Frankie had agreed to cover for you, telling Negan you were sick. Sneaking around while Negan is away is one thing, but sneaking around while Negan is here is an entirely different and incredibly stupid thing to do. But Frankie could be a life saver and Simon will just have to learn to live with the fact.

“Negan was bragging the other day.” Simon sniffs and takes a deep breath.

“About what?”

“About you, the others. About how many rounds he can go in one night.” You curl your fingers through the hairs on his chest, lifting you head to kiss his chin. “I mean, I get it, the man likes to fuck, who doesn’t? But when he mentions your name...” he pauses, letting out a long, slow breath.

“I know… But it doesn’t mean anything. I don’t even mean anything to him. I’m just some girl.”

“No. You’re my girl.” You smile at his words, pressing closer as if it were possible.

After a few silent minutes have passed you pull yourself up from the bed and glance in the direction of Simon’s small kitchenette. “I’m starving. You got anything good to eat? I didn’t even have breakfast.” Simon glances across the room at the wall clock and shrugs. It’s 11:35.

“Well, it’s still morning, guess I could make you some pancakes.” You nod enthusiastically as he sits up from the bed and reaches down to retrieve his pants from the floor, dragging them on and buckling the belt. Apparently boxers aren’t a necessity today. He pulls open the nearby dresser and digs around for a moment before pulling out a black t-shirt and a pair of faded grey sweatpants. He holds them out to you. “Look they’re way too big for you but it’s that or the goddamn dress.” He stares expectantly at you.

“It’s okay, that’s fine. Thank you.” You smile, taking the clothes and pulling them on, deciding if Simon isn’t going to wear underwear then neither are you. Simon sets to work in the kitchen as you gather up the dress and red lace undergarments from the floor, placing them, along with your black heels, onto a nearby chair. You glance back at the dresser, pulling open drawers and rummaging to find a pair of socks. Simon looks over his shoulder at you and smirks.

“Cold?”

“My feet are.” You shrug, pulling them on. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror above the dresser and can’t help thinking how ridiculous you look in Simon's massively over-sized clothes.

“I look-”

But he stops you before you can finish saying what he knows you’re going to say. “Fucking adorable. Period.” He stares at you with a look that suggests ‘don’t argue’, before continuing to make you breakfast.

You sit down at the small table, watching Simon – and if you’re honest, admiring the curve of his muscles. How does he make flipping pancakes look sexy, _anyway_? You lean back in your chair, enjoying the scent of Simon on the t-shirt you’re wearing, watching him stack pancakes onto plates. He turns, placing the plates on the table before heading back to the kitchen for cutlery and… Is that syrup?

“You have syrup?” You question.

Simon grins. “Sure do. Only bottle left in The Sanctuary if I’m right. See, there’s perks to fucking me, too.” His voiced is laced with sarcasm as he tips the syrup over the stacks of pancakes.

“When does Negan get back?” You ask before taking a bite of pancakes.

“Late tonight.” Simon sighs, cutting into his own pancakes and taking a mouthful. “Look,” he speaks between bites, “You can stay here if you want to,” he offers, “but I have some shit to do and my guys will be asking questions if I don’t show up when I’m supposed to.”

You nod, a little disappointed but you already knew realistically, you can’t spend more than an hour or two together this time around. “It’s okay. I get it.”

Simon reaches across the table and brushes your cheek with his thumb. “Listen. Negan’s got another trip scheduled in 5 days. It’s a couple days out so he’ll be gone a while. I’ve got some stuff to do but the night shifts, I’ll leave to D.” He smiles enthusiastically. “You can have me all night!”

You grin. It’s not often you have the chance to spend a night with Simon, but with no chance of running into Negan, nothing is going to keep you away. And you know Frankie will help you come up with cover to keep it secret from the other wives.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s not until you find yourself lying beneath Negan whilst he’s balls deep inside of you again, you realize just how much you wish you could be with Simon. Negan is staring down at you, his honey-hazel gaze locked on yours as he fucks you hard enough into the mattress he could definitely make you come even without the addition of his incredibly skilled fingers.

You run your hands through the hair on his chest; damp with sweat along with his forehead. He’d been torturing you for hours; refusing to allow you your release until he was good and goddamn ready. But now he’s picked up speed again you know he’s ready to come.

You close your eyes, trying to picture Simon in Negan’s place. And it’s not that you don’t enjoy sex with Negan. Because honest to God he takes a woman to heaven and back and there’s no doubt about how attractive he is. But the man is such an arrogant, egotistical, asshole who seems to think it acceptable to fuck multiple women and deny them the opportunity of a real relationship.

“Doll,” he breathes between heavy pants, “You better be ready to come… Because I’m about ready to lose all fucking self-control.” He holds your hips up against his. “If I come first this time you’re on your fucking own.” He growls.

But it doesn’t take much and the thought of it being Simon falling up and down above you is enough to send you over the edge. You can’t help the cry that escapes you but you bite your tongue in resistance to calling out Simon’s name instead of Negan’s. Your body tenses and the feel of your muscles tightening around Negan’s cock sends him following you over the edge and into ecstasy right alongside you.

“ _Holy Jesus_ _fuck_!” He exclaims, driving himself hard enough into you, you feel you might break.

You’re breathless beneath him as he collapses on top of you, kissing and sucking at your neck before finally pulling himself out; your body jerking at the sensation of his thick cock dragging away from you.

There’s a sudden knock at the door. Negan frowns.

“Who the fuck is it?” He demands, furiously.

“ _Simon_.” The voice replies. Your face turns pale. You haven’t seen him in three days and you don’t want him to see you like this. “Need to talk to you!”

“Mother fucking fucker…” Negan mumbles before pulling on his boxers and pants. You sit up to retrieve clothes but he shoots you a glare. “No. You stay the fuck there.” He lets out a soft sigh and the glare becomes a smirk, “I’m not done.” You swallow hard and nod.

Negan pulls open the door and steps aside, gesturing for Simon to enter the room. He steps inside, at first not noticing you but as Negan shuts the door, he catches sight of you, lying naked and sweating on Negan’s bed. And by the wide-eyed look on his face, he had no idea you were here tonight. He quickly looks away and turns to face Negan.

“Shit, Simon. What’s the matter?” Negan notices him glance briefly at you again and grins. “Look, you can take a good hard look at my wife if you want. _I_ won’t mind, _she_ won’t mind.” Simon’s jaw is clenched as he turns back to look at you. “I _know_ ,” Negan leans closer to him and whispers. “She’s hot as shit, right?” Simon nods and pulls his gaze away from you.

“Look, Negan, there’s issues at The Kingdom. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on down there but they aren’t providing what they should be. They’re fucking up. You want me to send Jared and a team? I’d deal with it but,” he  can’t help stealing another glance at you, “With you being scheduled on a run tomorrow for a couple days I figured I’m better off here.” Simon places his hands on his hips and takes a breath, awaiting Negan’s answer.

Negan expels a soft _tsk_ as he thinks. “You don’t think Dwight can fucking handle things here while I’m gone?” Simon doesn’t answer. “Okay. Send D. Dwighty-Boy can sort out King fuck-face and you keep an eye on this place. I’m taking Gavin with me, too. So it’s on you and Regina.” Simon nods. Negan stares at him. “Okay, Simon, get the fuck out so I can go back to screwing my wife. Or were you thinking of staying, to fucking, _watch_?”

Simon takes a deep breath and turns to leave without responding to Negan. He glances back at you one last time before closing the door behind him.

“The fuck’s wrong with you, doll?” Negan stares blankly at you and you realize you’re staring at the space where Simon was.

“Uh, nothing.” You smile up at Negan. “I just… Don’t like being interrupted.” You shrug.

Negan licks his lips as he gazes down at you. “Back to it.” He raises his eyebrows with a hungry smirk. “Get on your fucking knees.”

 

* * *

 

Another two hours pass before Negan decides he’s had enough for the evening and tells you – this time – to head back to the other wives rather than staying in his bed tonight. As you step out of his room and into the corridor you make the decision not to head back to your room just yet. Instead, you make your way out to the compound for some fresh air; you need to clear you head.

You take a seat on the cold, concrete steps outside the entrance, your legs hanging down and your arms resting between the yellow steel railings. The metal is like ice on your bare arms but right now you don’t care.

“You know you’re gonna freeze out here, right?” You turn to see Simon standing in the doorway behind you. You search for something to say to him but fall short of words. “Here.” He shrugs off his fur lined leather jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. You smile, enveloped in the warmth and scent of Simon. He drops down to the ground next to you, facing the opposite direction and leaning against the metal bars.

“Now _you’ll_ get cold.” You look at him.

“Me? Look at me.” He shrugs, flexing his muscles as he does so. “I won’t get cold.” He chuckles.

“I’m sorry.” You let out a long, slow breath, watching it being carried away in the freezing night air.

“You’ve not got a damn thing to be sorry about. You know that. Not a damn thing.” He insists. “I didn’t know he had you there tonight. If I’d known I might have sent Dwight.” That doesn’t make you feel any better about the situation. In fact, Dwight seeing you there like that would probably have been worse. _Probably_.

“I should go. If someone see’s us-”

“If someone see’s us then _nothing_. We’re just _talking_. _Talking_ , is allowed! No rules against me _talking_ to Negan’s wives.” He stares at you.

A single snowflake flutters silently in front of you, caught in the dull glow that emits from inside The Sanctuary. Your mind drifts back to your thoughts from a few days previous. You glance at Simon to find he’s still staring at you. You look down at the ground.

“Do you,” you pause, and consider the fact Simon will probably laugh at your dumb question, but you continue anyway. “Do you miss Christmas?”

When he doesn’t answer you look back up to find him frowning at you, bewildered. “What?”

“I was thinking about it the other day.”

“Okay.”

“Well?”

“Shit, it’s not really relevant is it?”

You shrug, watching another snowflake fall. “I guess not.”

After a moment of silence Simon sighs. “You miss it.” He nods his head slowly.

You have to think before answering him. “No.” You pause. “I mean, I think I miss the family part.”

“We all have family that we miss, hm? All of us.” He places his hand on your thigh and squeezes gently. Reassurance he’s here for you. For a second your eyes are locked together but the moment you share is abruptly cut short.

“Simon!” It’s Negan’s voice. Simon’s eyes snap forward and focus on the doorway. His hand slips slowly from your thigh and you hope Negan hadn’t noticed.

“Negan!” He greets with enthusiasm. You sit quietly, suddenly remembering you’re wearing Simon’s jacket.

“The fucks going on out here?” You glance up, watching as Negan swings Lucille up onto his shoulder with a frown.

Simon climbs to his feet, tucking his thumbs into his belt as he stands confidently before Negan. “Getting some fresh air.” Negan glances between the two of you.

“Hey doll, why don’t you get up from there before you fucking freeze to death. Although judging by the fact you’re wearing Simon’s fucking jacket…” He stares suspiciously at Simon with a grin on his face. Simon grins back, rivaling Negan. You do as instructed and stand up from the ground.

“She was cold. I wasn’t!” He shrugs. “ _What’s the big deal_?” He raises his eyebrows. Negan doesn’t reply. “I’ve got places to be.” Simon excuses himself, brushing past Negan and heading inside.

“Hey Simon!” Negan calls after him. “Forgot your damn jacket.” You swallow hard and shrug Simon’s jacket from your shoulders. Negan takes it from you and holds his arm out toward Simon. You scowl at Negan and his shit-eating grin. You know he knows something is up.

“I better go too. Frankie’s probably waiting on me.” You offer Negan a smile as you attempt to walk past him, but he stops you, grasping you firmly by the arm. You stop, not attempting to pull out of his grip.

“Hey whoa, whoa there. What’s the damn hurry? You had all the time in the goddamn world, to sit out here talking shit with Simon.” He turns you around and presses you against the cold, metal door. An icy shiver travels up your spine but Negan soon presses himself up to you, narrowing the space between your bodies and you can feel the heat radiating from his chest.

With Lucille hanging loosely in one hand, he raises his free hand up to your chin and lifts your gaze to meet his; his lips hovering dangerously close yours. “Now, I know I said you could go on back to your own room tonight, doll, but I think I’m changing my mind.” He leans forward, closing the gap between your lips and kissing you gently. You close your eyes, accepting his kiss and allowing his tongue to find yours. You pull your hands around the back of his neck, running your fingers through the curls of his dark, slicked back hair. He presses into you, and you shouldn’t be surprised to find his dick is hard, _yet again_.

You trail a hand downward, the palm of your hand pressing over the growing bulge in Negan’s pants. But he pulls away, grasping your wrists and pinning them to the door behind you. “Doll,” He narrows his eyes. “You smell like Simon. I don’t wanna fuck you when you fucking smell like Simon.” You stare wide eyed at him, unsure how to respond. But then he smiles and releases your wrists, before stepping back through the doorway; Lucille swung back up over his shoulder. He doesn’t turn to look at you when he calls out, “Tell Amber to get her ass to my room, _now_.”


	4. Chapter 4

As you step through the door you scan the room for signs of Amber. You spot Frankie and she smiles at you as you wander over to her. “Frankie, have you seen Amber?”

Frankie nods to a corner of the room. “There, why?” You look at her as if to say ‘you know why’ and she instantly understands. You approach Amber; she’s staring quietly out of the window, drinking, as usual.

“Amber, hey.” She stares at you with an attempt of a smile. “Negan asked me to tell you…”

She sighs. “Yeah, I get it.” She grabs up her bottle from a nearby table and takes it with her. You can’t help feeling sorry for her because sure, you are in a bad situation yourself, but Amber has it far worse.

Frankie grabs your arm and pulls you toward the couch, sitting you down beside her. “Negan decide he couldn’t get enough from you, huh?”

“No, he…” You shrug with a stupid grin on your face. “He said I smelled like Simon.”

“ _What_?”

“And that he wasn’t going to fuck me again, when I smell like Simon.”

“You, you do kinda smell like Simon. What the hell happened?”

“Nothing. He just gave me his jacket. That’s all.” You’re still grinning.

Frankie shakes her head. “You need to be more careful. If Negan thinks something’s up-”

“ _Keep your voice down_.” You hiss. “Simon is already pissed that you and Amber know. Anyway, he doesn’t think anything is up.” You reassure yourself as much as you assure Frankie. “Simon…” Your words trail to an awkward silence.

“Simon what?”

“He walked in while Negan and I were…” You pause, re-living the moment. “He acted like he didn’t care. I mean, I know he did care but Negan had no idea.”

There’s another silence before Frankie speaks again. “You know, you can’t keep this up forever.”

“Watch me.” You snap.

“No, I mean. It’s not fair on Simon.” Frankie stares at you. You drop your gaze to the floor, knowing she is right. “Imagine you walked in on Simon fucking someone else.”

“That’s different.” You insist. “I don’t have a choice.”

“You enjoy it though.” Frankie smirks.

“What? No, I… Look _none of us_ have a choice.” You scowl at Frankie.

“You’re telling me you don’t enjoy the way Negan screws you for hours on end?”

You huff and bite your lip. “ _Shut up_ , Frankie. Look, if I don’t have a choice in fucking him then the least I can do is enjoy it…” You feel a stab of guilt deep in your chest. “Anyway, Simon fucks better.” Frankie gasps in mock surprise, cupping her hand over her mouth. “Seriously, what am I supposed to do? God, this is so fucked up.”

“Welcome to the apocalypse, sweetie, the whole world is fucked up. Why should our sex lives be any different?” Despite your impossible predicament, you can’t help but laugh a little with Frankie. “You know,” Frankie muses. “You could tell Negan.”

“Have you totally lost the fucking plot?” You stare at her in disbelief.

“I don’t mean about Simon. Not right away, anyway.”

“Then what?”

“He says…” she swallows hard. “He says he doesn’t want anyone here, who doesn’t want to be here, right?”

“Right?”

“So, what if you tell him, you don’t want to be here?” She gazes hopefully at you.

“I don’t know. I don’t think – would it work? Where would I end up though? He’d put me on some sort of, terrible duty. I’m not against working, I’m not.”

“You’re not? Then why are you here?” Frankie rolls her eyes.

“I’m _not_. But what if he puts me on the fence?” The idea terrifies you. You aren’t averse to fighting and you’ve put down more than your fair share of the undead. But you’d always had someone looking out for you which no doubt is the reason you chose to marry Negan when you found yourself alone out _there_ ; you knew he’d keep you safe. But now? Now there’s Simon, and Simon would keep you safe too.

 

* * *

 

When you see Simon that night, he doesn’t greet you with his usual animated grin. Instead he ushers you inside his room with urgency and shuts the door in haste.

“Simon? What’s wrong?” You frown.

“Did anyone, see you?” He demands to know.

“What? No. I was careful. I’m always careful. Only Frankie knows I’m here.” You place your hand on his cheek and his stubble is rough against the palm for your hand. “Is everything okay?” you ask quietly.

“We need to be more careful.” He takes a step back from you and throws out his arms. “Negan suspects something!”

You take a deep breath. “How do you know?”

“Because he asked me who I’m fucking!”

“That doesn’t mean anything. What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. No one. I told him, I was fucking no one.”

“Okay.”

“Not okay.” Simon disputes.

“Why is it not okay to not be fucking anyone?”

Simon stares at you as though you’re supposed to know the answer. You stare back blankly. He simply stares harder.

“Is my expression really not conveying enough information to you? Negan, he _knows_ me! And my, _not_ , fucking someone, is more suspicious than my _actually_ , fucking someone.” He thinks for a moment, nodding his head slightly. “I mean, if that someone wasn’t you, obviously.”

“Obviously…” You roll your eyes.

He sighs and places his hands on his hips in signature Simon fashion; his head hanging low. You step forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and placing a kiss against his shoulder. Eventually he allows his hands to fall from his hips and pulls you tight into his chest. And it’s when you’re wrapped in his strong arms, pressed against his warmth that you feel safe.

“This is stupid.” He mutters.

“What?”

“This. _Us_.” He loosens his grip on you. “It’s ridiculous and if he finds out – _when,_ he finds out, we’ll be dead.” He steps back again, running a hand over his mustache.

“Dead? No. He wouldn’t-”

“Yup. Dead. Very, _very_ dead.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“Okay, best case scenario? I end up like Dwight. And Mark. I don’t want that. You don’t want that. Shit, no one wants that. And you? Look, I’ve seen how miserable Amber is. Negan makes a point of mentioning how miserable Amber is.”

“So what does that mean? That’s it? We’re finished?”

Simon slumps into a chair at the small breakfast table.

“It means I don’t know. I need to think.” He leans forward, placing his elbows on the table and running a hand over his forehead and through his hair.

Eventually, you take a deep breath. “Fuck you, Simon.” You turn to leave his room.

“No. _No!_ ” Simon jumps up and reaches out to grasp your wrist before you can reach the door. “No,” he repeats, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t want that.” He pulls you back toward him and takes his seat, dragging you closer to him. “I’m sorry. I don’t want that.” You’re caught in his deep brown eyes again as he gazes honestly at you. “Stay.” He pulls you down onto his lap and runs his fingers through your hair before pulling you down to his lips. He kisses you; a deep and desperate kiss that leaves you both somewhat breathless.

“Frankie said…” You begin, “Frankie said that, maybe if we-”

But he presses his lips back against you. “Nuh-uh.” He mumbles as he kisses you. “No talking.” You can’t help but kiss him back. “I don’t want to…” his hand glides underneath your black dress and between your thighs. “Talk about it.”

You force yourself away from Simon, standing up from his lap before unzipping your dress and slipping it off from your shoulders. Simon watches you, leaning back on his chair and taking in the view of you in your underwear. This time it’s black lace; but you’re keen to remove it, unclasping your bra and allowing it to drop to the floor alongside your dress; followed shortly by your panties. You step out of your heels, and Simon’s eyes are wide as you take a step back toward him and straddle his lap.

Wrapping your hands back around his neck you move your mouth back to his, and you’re back to tasting each other hungrily; Simon’s hands gliding up your thighs and over your body before he cups your breasts, massaging gently and pinching your nipples between his fingers. You grind yourself into his hips – feeling his hard cock straining against his pants – desperate to create some much needed friction.

And then Simon grips your hips, hard, lifting you effortlessly from the chair with him and turning to pin you between his hard body and the wall. You wrap your legs around his hips and he grips your thigh with one hand whilst the other works loose his belt and unbuttons his pants.

“ _Fuck, Simon_.” You whimper, rolling you head back against the wall as he presses the tip of his throbbing cock at your aching entrance. “ _Please_.” And tonight it’s all clawing and sweat and raw desperation as you cling to one another. And when he finally slams into you – leaving no opportunity this time for you to adjust to his size – you can’t help calling out his name, causing him to wrap his hand over your mouth.

“ _Shh_. Seriously, you want someone to fucking hear us?” He growls at you and you shake your head ‘no’, encouraging him to release his grip. He moves his hand, now grasping both your thighs as he repeatedly drives into you. And you should maybe be worried by the fact he’s holding you tight enough his fingers could be leaving bruises, but honestly; right now you don’t care. All you care about is feeling Simon deep inside you; and you are entirely consumed by him.

And soon you feel the familiar fire igniting between your thighs, burning through you as Simon fucks you to a point of release; refusing to stop until you’re practically begging him. Simon releases your thighs and pulls out of you, stepping back and allowing you to drop to your knees before him. He runs his fingers through your hair, and you take as much of his length into your mouth as you can; tasting yourself on him as your tongue presses against the underside of his cock and he begins to fuck you; roughly and desperately.

It takes only moments of Simon fucking your mouth before he comes with a guttural groan; his hot release spilling into you and you swallow it down, licking at the tip of his cock as he removes himself from you.

Simon takes deep steady breaths before fastening his pants, then lifts you from the floor, once again carrying you to his bed.

 

* * *

 

You awake sometime later, at first confused as to where you are. Glancing around you notice Simon lying next to you; he’s propped up on pillows and sipping from a beer bottle, with one hand resting against your thigh as you’re curled into him. He’s wearing nothing but dark grey boxers and his hair is sticking up in places; which is honestly kind of adorable but you wouldn’t tell him so.

“What time is it?” You mumble, shifting your still naked form closer to Simon.

“It’s just gone 2am.” Simon smiles warmly at you. You frown, realizing you’ve been asleep for about four hours which is highly unusual for you. It’s rare for you to achieve any amount of sleep these days, for two reasons; you either spend your nights with Negan which means vast amounts of fucking with little sleep in between; or you spend your nights lying awake wishing you’re with Simon, contemplating how your life has become a mess of sex and lies.

You lay with your head on Simon’s chest, silently tracing the lines of his muscles with your finger and listening to his steady breathing. But you know you need to talk to him. You need to figure this out. _Somehow_.

“Simon?”

“ _Mm-hmm_?” He mumbles, taking another sip from his beer bottle.

“Frankie… Had a suggestion.” He stays silent, his fingers stroking your thigh delicately. “We should tell Negan.”

Simon almost chokes on his beer. “Has Frankie lost her fucking mind?”

“No, listen.” You pull yourself up to stare at Simon. “I don’t have to stay. He’s not _forcing_ me to stay. He wouldn’t do that. He might be an asshole and a sociopath and a lot of other fucked up things but a rapist isn’t one of them. You know that.”

Simon raises his eyebrows and nods as though your suggestion makes sense but it’s not particularly convincing.

“He’s not gonna buy that. He’s also not stupid.” He swallows down the last dregs of the bottle and places it on the night stand alongside two other already empty bottles.

“He’s got no proof of anything. We keep quiet for a while. A few weeks-”

“ _Months_.” Simon interrupts.

“Whatever. We keep quiet. He won’t know a damn thing.”

“And what about you? It’s hard enough finding time for,” he gestures between the two of you. “ _This_ , as it is. He’ll put you on the factory floor and make you work. That’s if you’re _lucky_. I can’t keep you safe!” He insists with a frustration, running a hand over his moustache.

“Simon. You can’t keep me safe from Negan, either.” There’s a pain behind his eyes as you say those words to him, and he drags himself up from the bed to sit on its edge with his back to you. He sighs heavily. “I either tell _Negan_ it’s over…” You sit beside Simon. “Or _we’re_ over.”


	5. Chapter 5

You sit patiently in Negan’s room, perched on the edge of the worn, black leather couch, anxiously awaiting The Savior’s leader. You pull at the hem of your short black dress, hopeful that after today you won’t have to wear anything like it again. You must now have been waiting about a half hour, but you can’t be sure.

Eventually, the door swings open and Negan strides into the room, Lucille resting over his leather clad shoulder. As he closes the door he notices you, and a grin spreads across his face.

“ _Well_ , fucking, _well_. If it isn’t my _second, favorite, wife_.” You stare at him, knowing full well Sherry is his favorite, but it’s a compliment – if you could call it that – none-the-less. “Hi there, doll.” You don’t smile. “I had every intention of having Sherry come see me tonight but I’m sure I can fit in a couple rounds with you, first. I mean, you know just as well how to get my dick fucking _hard_.” You stand up from the couch and he drops Lucille onto the grey armchair beside him, before removing his dark red scarf and unzipping his leather jacket. He drops them, too, beside Lucille and stands in front you, before running his hands down your arms.

You attempt to find the courage to speak, but you can’t look him in the eye. “That’s not why I’m here, Negan.”

“Well, shit. What the fuck are you here for then if it’s not _my dick_?” He leans back, cocking his head to one side to meet your eyes.

“I don’t…”

“Spit it the hell out, doll.” His tongue traces over his bottom lip as he stares at you.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Be your wife.”

“Jesus. What the fuck?”

You brace yourself for any number of reactions; Negan is unpredictable.

“I just-”

“If you’re cheating on me, doll. If you are screwing anyone, _anyone_ ,” He’s face has grown stern. “I swear to _holy mother-fucking Christ_ there will be _hell_ to pay.” Your mind is clouded with thoughts of Simon, and you can only hope he doesn’t see it in your eyes.

“No.” You lie. “No, Negan. There’s no one else. I wouldn’t… I’d never do that.” You swallow hard and stare at the ground as he backs away from you.

“Do you realize what you’re telling me? Fuck. You want me to put you on the fence?” He shakes his head. “Look I don’t want anyone here,”

“That doesn’t want to be here.” You interrupt. “ _Exactly_.”

He huffs, runs a hand over his face, and smiles at you. “Okay.” He sighs. “You want to give up all of this,” He gestures around the room, and then to himself, “To work on the goddam factory floor then then _so, fucking, be it_.”

You take a deep breath. Sure, working and living on the factory floor isn’t going to be fun, but there are plenty of others at The Sanctuary doing just that. And Simon promised you it wouldn’t be for long. A few weeks, a month or two at most and once the air has cleared, it’ll be easier for you to be with Simon. And as for Negan, he’ll simply move on to the next woman willing to jump into bed with him.

 

* * *

 

A week passes. Negan had taken your reluctance to stay as his wife better than you’d expected and news on the factory floor was he’d already found a new wife to bang. And the job he’d placed you in may well be inconsolably mundane but washing dishes in the kitchens isn’t the worst job you could be doing. And sleeping on military style cot beds among the other workers _might_ have been the worst thing about the whole scenario but in truth, the worst thing has been you haven’t seen Simon since you’d been down here.

He’d flit in and out, occasionally grabbing some food or checking up on the workers. Once he’d been by Negan’s side when your _fearless leader_ had made one of his grand entrances above the factory floor. You’d dropped to your knees, following suit of the other workers but glancing up you’d managed to catch Simon’s eye. He’d stared at you the entire time Negan was making his speech about the latest haul of fresh vegetables from the Hilltop community, and he hadn’t broken eye contact until he’d had to leave.

You’re in the kitchen rinsing cutlery when you happen to glance out of the doorway, catching sight of Simon standing nearby with his thumbs tucked into his belt, surveying the area. You take a look around you to ensure the other two women working alongside you are occupied, and drop what you’re doing to cautiously approach him. He catches sight of you and motions silently with his hand for you to stay where you are. You wait as the other workers exit the kitchen and you wonder if they’ve seen Simon or not. Not that it matters, of course.

Simon approaches and you back into the kitchen. “Simon,” You begin, and all you want to do is throw your arms around him but you know you can’t.

Simon shakes his head, “Shit. You look…” His words trail as he stares at you.

“Like shit. I know.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.” He shakes his head with wide eyes.

“No but it’s true.” You stare down at your faded and worn jeans, accompanied by the scruffy, stained, grey t-shirt clearly three sizes too big for you.

Simon grins, placing a strong, warm hand on your arm. “I fucking miss you.” He sighs.

“Is Negan here?” You question, hoping the answer will be no.

“He’s not going anywhere for a while. And even if he does? He still thinks something is up. Dwight has been watching me like a goddamn hawk all week…” He moves closer, pressing his hand to your cheek. “I need to see you.”

“When?” You don’t mean to sound quite so eager but Simon just grins wider at your response.

“I spoke to Frankie earlier,” You’ve been so caught up in thinking about Simon for the last week you hadn’t even considered how you miss spending time with Frankie, too. “Says Negan made it quite clear she’s to spend the night with him. And I’ve convinced _her_ to convince _Sherry_ to keep Dwight distracted too so,” He shrugs his broad shoulders and smiles suggestively.

Before you can respond, the two kitchen workers bustle back into the kitchen; both eyeing you with brief suspicion as Simon quickly drops his hand from your face.

“I hope I’ve made myself clear.” He snaps in an authoritative tone. You stare up at him.

“Uh, yes. _Sir._ ” He smirks and raises an eyebrow at the word _Sir_ before nodding and striding out of the kitchen. You watch him leave, not _intending_ to stare at his ass as he walks away but finding you do it _anyway_. Once he’s gone you turn to the two women beside you. “ _What_?” You snap. They shrug, turning back to their duties.

 

* * *

 

You finish up your shift in the kitchen and consider heading straight to Simon’s room, but settle on the idea of taking a shower, first. The showers in this part of the building are communal, cold, and nowhere near what you’re used to. But they’ll do. You wash quickly, rinsing your hair through and squeezing out as much of the excess moisture as you can.

But you know this is temporary, because soon you’ll be able to be with Simon, pretending like your relationship is fresh and new, rather than the months-long affair it, in actuality, is. Although, from what Simon has already told you about Negan’s behaviour you wonder just how long you’ll have to keep up sneaking around behind his back.

You shake your worries from your head as you dress, in yet another unfortunately sized, scruffy t-shirt and the same worn jeans you had on before. Reminding yourself you can undress again as soon as you reach Simon’s room, you pull on a pair of combat boots you’d been lucky enough to acquire and head out of the communal bathrooms.

Getting away from the factory floor is easy. But getting to Simon’s room without being seen by the other Savior’s is far more difficult; none of the workers care in the least about your business, but if Negan or Dwight or anyone else catches you… The consequences for both yourself _and_ Simon aren’t worth thinking about.

Fortunately, the only Saviors you run into as you head to the second floor are Regina and Gavin, who are too busy having a conversation at one end of the hallway to notice you slip quietly by at the opposite end. You expel a silent sigh of relief as you arrive at Simon’s door, and the moment it closes behind you, Simon has you in his arms, pinning you against the wall and kissing you hungrily.

Reluctantly, you push him away from you. “Wait.” You insist.

Simon stares blankly at you with an expression that suggests he is in no mood to wait. But he quickly catches on as you pull off your t-shirt and kick off your unlaced boots; his hands moving straight to the buttons of your jeans. He curls his fingers around the waistband and drags them downward, a smile spreading over his face as he stares at you.

“No underwear, huh?”

You shrug, “What would I need underwear for?”

Simon grins again and then he’s on his knees before you, tossing away the jeans and trailing hot kisses along the inside of your thighs. He lifts one of your legs above his shoulder, burying his face between your legs and exploring your wetness with his tongue. And the way his tongue moves skilfully over your clit is enough to make you want to scream his name already. Your eyes are shut tight as you run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you.

“Goddamnit,” he breathes, bringing his fingers to rest teasingly against your aching core. “You are so fucking wet for me already.”

“Jesus, Simon,” You groan, your eyes still closed. “It’s been over a week.”

“No kidding.” He chuckles, pushing two fingers hard inside you and moving his mouth back to suck at your clit.

The sensation could have lasted seconds or hours and you wouldn’t know the difference as wave after wave of pleasure hits you; Simon continuously fucking you through your orgasm with his hands and his mouth. And it’s only when your legs are practically shaking that he releases you and stands, pinning you back to the wall and placing his lips back against yours; his tongue invading your mouth so that taste yourself on him.

And it’s a damn good job he has his arms around you as he drags you from the wall, because you’re not sure at this point you could stand by yourself. You move your hands to unbutton his shirt as he kisses you; his own hands squeezing your ass and holding your hips against his strained erection. You run your hands over his muscular frame before making short work of unbuckling his belt.

No sooner than you’re able to drag down his pants and boxers – freeing his hard and impressive cock – he lowers you gently to the floor, dropping above you and lowering himself to taste more of your skin.

And all you can do is groan at the feel of his mouth devouring your entire body, kissing and licking and nipping in all the right ways. But then he wraps his arms around you, flipping you over and on top of him. And even in this position you know Simon is in complete control, and he guides you down onto his cock, burying himself to the hilt and eliciting a soft groan from you.

His hands are firm either side of your hips as he guides you slowly up and down above him. You rock your hips, your fingers digging into his chest as you attempt to keep as quiet as you can; not wanting to alert Regina or Gavin to the fact that you and Simon are together.

As you fall up and down above him, you can’t help noticing, quite suddenly, there is a string of multi-coloured lights wrapped around the top of the bedframe. “Simon,” you gasp, between each long stroke of his cock, “Why are… There lights… On the bed?” You stare back at him; his eyes roll back as he attempts to glance at the bed.

“You said you missed Christmas.” He grins, beginning to thrust faster into you. And maybe you had said that, but right at this moment you decide you can’t focus on anything other than Simon’s cock driving agonizingly deep inside you. “Shit…” He mutters, closing his eyes. “I’m gonna come.” And then he has his hands around your back, switching your positions and pushing you back down against the floor so that he can lay on top of you; another few, hard strokes inside you and he pulls out, spilling his release across your stomach.

Simon collapses at your side; his breathing heavy. After a few moments he shifts to replace his pants again before pulling himself into a sitting position. He stares at you over his shoulder. You lay with your hands above you head, taking long, slow breaths. “You want a beer?” Simon offers.

You smile. “Sure.”

He climbs up from the floor, passing you a box of tissues before heading to the mini refrigerator to grab two bottles of the Sanctuary-brewed beer. He holds out a hand to help you up before twisting the cap off of a bottle and handing it to you. You take a sip, and the pair of you drop down onto the edge of the bed.

“What is _that_?” You stare across the room.

Simon looks at you with an expression that says you should know what it damn-well is. “Obviously, sweetheart, it’s a Christmas tree.”

You almost spit your beer as you stifle a laugh. Standing on the dresser is the smallest, most under-decorated, artificial tree you’ve ever seen. You look back at Simon and he opens his mouth as if he might say something, but then doesn’t. “Sorry.” You mumble behind your beer.

“I thought you’d like it.” He frowns. “Searched everywhere to find you something but for reasons unknown, The Sanctuary doesn’t seem to have festive decorations at the top of their scavenging priorities.” His eyes widen with his sarcastic tone. “You were going on about it…” He mutters, gulping down beer.

“You’re sweet.” You smile but he stares at you like he’s just been slapped in the face.

He sniffs. “First time for everything, I guess. I don’t usually go for _sweet_.” He gulps down the last of his beer and sets the bottle on the night stand.

Before you can say another word, there’s a loud thudding against the door.


	6. Chapter 6

“Open the _fucking_ door, Simon.” A voice on the other side demands.

But it’s not just any voice. It’s Negan’s voice.

“Well this is just goddamn perfect…” Simon mutters. “Okay, I’m just – Just a minute!”

“Not in a goddamn minute, Simon. Fucking _now_.” Negan insists.

“You need to hide.” Simon states bluntly, taking the beer bottle from you and placing it on the night stand. You glance around the room. Is he insane?

“ _Where, Simon? You’re fucking kidding, right_?” You whisper.

“I’m gonna count to three,” Negan threatens. “And Then I’m gonna go all Lucille on your ass. _One_.”

Simon takes a breath and shrugs, realizing he has very little option but to open the door.

“ _Two_.”

He pulls the door open a crack, enough that Negan can’t see in.

“There you fucking are.” Negan’s doesn’t sound like he’s in the best of moods.

“ _To what do I owe this pleasant surprise_?” Simon questions enthusiastically.

“Who’s in there?” Negan demands to know.

Simon slips out of the door and closes it behind him. The voices are muffled, but you can hear their conversation through the door. “No one. I’ve been on my own all damn evening.” Simon lies.

“Bull- _shit_.” There’s a pause. “You smell like sweat and sex, Simon.”

“Okay, shit, it’s just one of the workers from downstairs.” There’s another long pause before the door handle pushes down and the door swings open.

Negan steps into the room, starring wide eyed at you as you perch nervously on the edge of the bed. “Jesus, fucking, fuckity _fuck_.” He drawls. “ _Simon_ ,” His gaze lingers on your naked form for a short while longer before he turns back to Simon and shakes his head with a malicious grin. “You fucking lied to me. Now,” He grips Lucille tightly in his hand, swaying her barbed end in Simon’s direction. “I feel like you’ve been lying to me a _long_ damn time. Am I fucking right?”

Simon takes a deep breath and rests his hands on his hips; his shirt still unbuttoned. He stands tall before Negan, in what you can only assume is his attempt to show he’s not intimidated by him. “I wouldn’t lie to you, not about that.”

“Now _that’s another goddamn fucking lie_.” His face draws angrier. “ _Dwight!_ ” He demands, and in an instant Dwight appears in the doorway, glancing warily at you before locking his gaze on Simon. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Dwighty-Boy, but I think the punishment for fucking around with my wives behind my back is the iron?”

Dwight nods. “Yes sir, Negan.” Simon’s eyes are wide as he stares at Negan, then he glances at you and you’re suddenly very aware of the fact you’re still frozen to the spot, entirely unclothed. Negan turns, beckoning you forward with two fingers. You stand, reluctantly, and approach him. He moves so his body is almost pressed against yours and he smiles, raising an eyebrow as he looks you over.

“Despite the fact that seeing you like this gets my dick hard as fucking _steel_ ,” He licks his lips. “I will suggest you put some damn clothes on. Simon needs to learn a fucking lesson and I would hate for you to miss the show.” He smirks.

You clench your jaw. “I’m not yours. I’m not your wife anymore, Negan. What Simon and I do-”

“ _Shut. Your. Mouth!_ ” Negan’s eyes grow narrow and he takes a long, slow breath. “No. No you are not, my wife. But the fact is? That the _reason_ , you’re no longer my goddamn wife is because this _asshole, thinks he can stick his goddamn dick where it does, not, fucking, belong! And he, needs, to know_ that there are _consequences!_ ” He slams Lucille hard onto the small breakfast table beside you, causing you to flinch and leaving an obvious dent in the wood.

Negan calms his breathing and brings his finger and thumb up to rest under your chin, tipping your face toward him. “Now, I don’t know why you’re crying, doll. You knew exactly what would happen when I caught you and Simon; the _same_ thing that happened with Dwight; the _same_ thing that happened with Mark. Maybe I’m not being hard enough on you people.” He shakes his head softly and stares into your eyes. “ _Maybe_ , driving an iron against his face is not enough.” He turns back to face Simon, keeping a firm grip on your chin. “Maybe I need to take the fucking iron to your _dick_ , too, Simon?”

Simon shifts uncomfortably at Negan’s words, but you can see he’s trying to reassure you with his eyes that everything will be okay, although you can’t see how it possibly could be.

Negan turns back and grins at you again. “Get dressed.” He commands, releasing his hold on you. You scramble to find clothes, noticing that Simon had conveniently laid out the same set of clothes he’d allowed you to borrow before; his black t-shirt and faded grey sweatpants. You pull them on as quickly as possible, along with your own combat boots before Negan leads the way from Simon’s room, whistling and beckoning you with his fingers to follow.

Dwight pulls out his pistol, aiming it directly at Simon in a threatening manner. Simon shakes his head as you pass him. “Screw you, Dwight.” Simon taunts as he follows you from the room.

Dwight chuckles behind you. “Look man, you’ve only got yourself to blame. Dangerous shit, screwing with the bosses wives.”

“Says _you_.” Simon snaps.

You’re part way down the corridor when without warning Simon turns on Dwight, grabbing the pistol and head-butting him, sending him sprawling across the floor. But Negan is quicker than Simon, and before anything else can happen Negan turns on his heel and swings Lucille in Simon’s direction, catching him with a fierce blow in the ribs. Simon doubles over, dropping the pistol in the process.

You can only watch as Negan then knees Simon in the face, forcing him upright and shoving the dangerous end of Lucille horizontally across Simon’s throat, effectively pinning him to the wall. The barbed wire digs into his neck, tearing lines of red across his flesh. “Don’t _make me_ crack your fucking skull open, Simon.” Negan warns with a threatening grin.

Simon struggles to catch his breath as he clutches at his ribs; his shirt is still open and you can make out the thick, red scratches over his stomach left by Lucille. Blood runs from his nose, staining his moustache and pooling at the corner of his mouth. Negan eventually moves Lucille away from Simon’s throat and grasps him roughly by the collar of his shirt. “ _Move_.” He orders.

Dwight staggers up from the floor and picks up his pistol, before shoving his hand into your back and urging you to follow Negan. You wipe fiercely at the tears collecting at the corners of your eyes, furious at yourself that you had been stupid enough to risk seeing Simon tonight.

 

* * *

  

When you see Frankie you immediately fall into her arms. She catches you, holding onto you and attempting to reassure you that everything will be okay. Negan ignores the pair of you, too busy smirking at Simon tied to the chair and waiting for his iron to heat. You sob silently into Frankie’s shoulder and despite how familiar this whole scene is to you, it doesn’t make it any easier.

You glance up to see Negan pulling on a heavy duty glove, lingering near the open furnace; His face illuminated by the orange glow of the flames. “It seems that some people,” His voice echo’s through the room as he speaks. “Didn’t quite get the message the first two times I had to deal with this fucking behavior.” He stares down at Simon. “Simon, here, seems to think it’s acceptable, to fuck _my_ wife behind my back and has it in his head that _I, wouldn’t, find, out_.”

“Don’t look,” Frankie whispers as she attempts to turn your face away from Negan and Simon.

“And that-” Negan stops short, staring up at the walkway above with wide eyes. “What the…? Holy _shit_!”

You look up – as does everyone else – your line of vision following Negan’s as a dozen corpses lumber their way inside the building; some tumbling forwards over the bright yellow railings of the above platforms, clawing and gnashing furiously at everyone below. There’s a sudden panic flooding throughout the room; some of the workers screaming as the corpses fall toward them. You stare at Negan, who wastes no time in throwing his heavy glove to the floor and grasping Lucille.

**\---**

“ _So tell me again about this plan.” You ask Simon, staring out at the corpses, chained and ambling outside of The Sanctuary’s fences._

 _“Keno, owes me a favor.” You glace at Simon. You’re pretty sure that ‘owes me a favor’ translates to Simon threatening and-or blackmailing him. “Shit goes south? Negan finds out and decides he wants to_ barbecue _my face? We’ll leave. Keno creates a diversion and we run when Negan’s not watching.”_

_“And you’d leave The Sanctuary if it means we’re together?” You frown at Simon._

_“I thought about it a lot. Was a time when the answer was no. Guess you mean more to me than that.” His head bobs as he throws a smirk your way._

_You can’t help smiling. “We could just leave now.” You suggest._

_“Thought about that too. But honestly, Negan’s got a good thing going here. Why give that up willingly?”_

**\---**

Simon was right, of course. And using Keno as a means of escape should only have been a backup plan. You should never have been stupid enough to allow Negan to find out.

“Untie me!” Simon demands. “Shit, Negan, fucking _untie me_ and I can help!”

Negan glances at him and then at Dwight. “ _Do it, Dwight!_ ” He demands, because Negan isn’t stupid and Simon is no use to him _dead_. You gaze at Frankie and she pulls you toward the back of the room.

“Frankie, I-” You look up to see Simon glancing between you and Negan – grasping the handgun you assume Dwight has given him – as though unsure where his loyalties lie; with The Sanctuary, or with you? Dwight has already followed after Negan and a number of other Saviors are firing in the direction of the corpses. Simon fires a couple shots, hitting two corpses in the head before turning to make his way toward you.

“This is it, we gotta go. _Go_!” Simon grabs your hand and drags you away from Frankie and through a back entrance, leaving Negan and the other Saviors to protect their people.

There is mass panic among the workers; people are running in different directions but Simon knows exactly where the two of you need to be headed. Reaching the gate at the front of The Sanctuary, Keno appears, throwing the keys to Simon’s jeep at him. You glance around; realizing that the gates are wide open and a number of the undead are stumbling into the compound.

 “You came through!” Simon slaps Keno on the back in appreciation before climbing up into the black pickup. You climb into the passenger side, slamming the door shut and glancing back at the chaos unfolding around you. “It’s okay, Negan knows what the fuck he’s doing. Saviors’ll keep the place safe.” He starts up the engine and you’re soon rolling through the open gates, leaving The Sanctuary behind you.

You slink down in the seat, feet up on the dash and staring out at the darkness as you drive past the chained corpses. You haven’t left the sanctuary in a long time; not since you’d first arrived and you’d almost forgotten how desolate the world looks now.

Looking down, you huff out a soft laugh and Simon turns his attention away from the road to stare at you. “What?” He questions, raising an eyebrow.

“I need better clothes.” You shrug.

“What’s wrong with my clothes on you?” He questions sarcastically. You shake your head. “I say they look better on you than on me.” He grins, turning his attention back to the road. “Then again,” he sighs, “They look even better on the floor.” You attempt to hide your smirk.

“Where are we headed?” The thought only just occurs to you.

Simon tilts his head as he stares at the road. “I’ve not figured that one out, yet. North, maybe. Gotta make a stop first.” He nods slowly.

“Where?”

“Visit my good pal _Gregory._ ”


	7. Chapter 7

You happen to know Gregory is the leader of the Hilltop community. Simon has mentioned him on a few occasions; a snivelling, pathetic, incompetent nut-sack; these are only _some_ of the ways Simon has described the man.

At a guess you’d say it’s around 10pm as you pull up outside of a tall, log fence. Simon leans out of the window of the pickup, shouting to the men guarding the entrance way. “ _Open up! And someone go find Gregory!_ ” The two men at the top of the fence exchange glances. “ _Don’t make me have to ask twice!_ ” He calls. The gates fall open and Simon pulls the truck inside.

The site encompassed by the fence doesn’t seem particularly large, but a sizable plantation-style house sits at its center, surrounded by simple-looking trailers and farming space.

Simon throws open his door, dropping down from the jeep and placing his hands on his hips. You climb out, too, wrapping your arms around your body in an effort to keep warm; the air is like ice and it wouldn’t surprise you to see snow falling again tonight. You glance around at the small community space. “Quaint…” You mutter, not nearly as impressed by the Hilltop as you had been by the Sanctuary when you’d first got there. “We’re not staying here, are we?”

Simon takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Not really an option. This will be the first place Negan’ll think to look.” He turns to make his way toward the large building and you follow. A nervous looking man with thinning white hair and graying beard is waiting in the doorway. “Gregory! Hello!” Simon calls.

The man smiles anxiously. “Simon, uh, what can I do for you at this hour?” His voice is a little unsure. He glances at you, offering another apprehensive smile before looking back to Simon.

“Aren’t you going to invite us in?” Simon throws his arm around your shoulder and stares expectantly at Gregory; the look in his eyes somewhat threatening as the man hesitates to respond. “Come on Gregory!  _Show some hospitality_ , huh?”

“Oh, yes, sorry. Um,” He glances at you again. “Come in, come in.” He shuffles out of the way, gesturing for you to enter inside. The place is elegant; impressive with its grand oak furniture and golden-framed paintings hanging on the walls. “So,” He clears his throat nervously. “What can I help you with?”

Simon sighs and moves his arm away from you, taking a step toward Gregory. “I want the shit I asked for, Gregory. Left you with a nice list of supplies…” He eyes the smaller man with another threatening look. “I trust you came through with this. Because if not… Well I’ll leave you to imagine the consequences if you piss me off. See, I’m in a bad place right now. ‘ _Lotta_  bad shit going down.” He nods his head a little.

“I’m, uh… I’m sorry to hear that, Simon.” He glances in your direction, furrowing his brow a little as he asks, “Who’s your friend? I don’t believe we’ve met.” You shift awkwardly from one foot to another, arms folded across your chest. Something about Gregory makes you a little uncomfortable.

“I’m his-” You stop short, not knowing how to introduce yourself and instead opting to give Gregory your name.

“Oh, pleasure.” He smiles again, holding out his hand for you to shake, but before you can do anything else, Simon slaps him on the back and guides him back to the door.

“Be a good friend, Gregory; go get me my shit, and load it up for me.” Gregory nods and disappears out of the building, not hesitating to follow Simon’s orders.

Simon turns around and approaches the door beside you, swinging it open casually – he clearly knows his way around the Hilltop. He glances at you, indicating for you to follow him. As you step through the door you find yourself in what appears to be an office; _Gregory’s_ office, no doubt, and you hate to admit, it’s more impressive than the majority of the furnishings in The Sanctuary put together.

Simon strolls to the antique looking desk situated on one side of the room. You watch him silently as he walks around to pull open one of its drawers. Expelling a soft sigh, he produces a bottle of scotch. “Ugh,” he shakes his head, taking a seat on the desk, one foot casually resting on what is likely an antique chair. “I hate this stuff, tastes like-”

“Like ash trays and window cleaner.” You interrupt. “I know. You’ve mentioned.” You smirk at Simon and he nods with a grin on his face, holding the bottle out to you.

“You want some?” He offers. You shrug; not likely to turn down a free drink. You reach a hand out to take the bottle from Simon, but he doesn’t let go; instead using the bottle as a means to pull you closer to him. Eventually he lets go, but only once you’re close enough he can cup his large, warm hands over your ass. You smile and take a long drink from the bottle. You replace the lid and Simon takes it from you, placing it on the desk behind him before moving his mouth toward yours.

You pull away, raising an eyebrow at Simon, “You sure? I don’t want you complaining I taste like ash trays and-”

“Shut up.” And before you can continue the sentence his lips are on yours and he doesn’t seem to mind the taste of scotch when it’s on _you_ , apparently, as his tongue parts your lips.

But Simon’s hungry advances are cut short when the door swings open. You turn to see a much younger looking man with long dark hair and thick beard standing in the doorway with a small pile of folded clothes in his arms.

“Jesus!” Simon exclaims.

“Simon.” He responds bluntly. “Gregory said you’d want these.” The man looks irritated as he approaches you both and hands over the pile of clothes.

“Uh, thanks.” You mutter.

“So what,” He turns to Simon. “You piss off the boss?” His lips twitch into an almost-smirk.

“Not sure our reasons for being here are any of your concern.” Simon stares coldly at him and the man shakes his head with a huff, before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. “You should put those on.” Simon nods toward the clothes. They’re entirely more sensible than wearing Simon’s over-sized sweat pants and t-shirt.

“I’m impressed.” You smile. “All the right size.”

Simon grins. “No shit. _I’m organized_.”

Moving away from Simon you kick off your unlaced boots and wiggle out of his pants and t-shirt, forgetting for a moment you aren’t wearing any underwear.

“ _Shit_...” Simon runs a hand over his mustache as he stares at you. “If we had the _time to spare_ , I would _not_ hesitate to screw you right here and now on this fine, fucking, desk.” He chuckles, “Maybe next time.” You try to hide your smile as you dress, pulling on fitted, black jeans, a dark green tank top, gray shirt and a black jacket.

The door swings open again as you finish lacing your boots, and Gregory walks in; a frown developing on his face as he notices Simon’s dusty boots resting on his chair. Simon grins and kicks the chair out of the way, standing up tall in front of Gregory.

“It’s uh,” Gregory swallows hard as he stares up at Simon. “It’s all done, everything you asked for, it’s all loaded into your truck, ready to go.”

Simon pats Gregory patronizingly on the head as though he were no more than a dog following its owner’s commands. “Good. Now, I’d love to stick around for bit but,” He shrugs, “You know how it is. Things to do, place’s to be.” He reaches for the door, holding it open for you. “See you around, Gregory.”


	8. Chapter 8

_You crouched silently beside the repulsive and maggot riddled bed; breathing through the collar of the shirt you’d pulled up over your mouth, in an attempt to mask the stench of the decomposing corpses lying atop of it. Grazed knuckles turned white as you clutched a knife by your side, but you’d caught a brief glimpse of the man who was rummaging through the already ransacked house when he’d pulled up outside of it in his impressively sized truck. And you knew you’d never be able to overpower him. Your only hope was to stay silent._

_Footsteps stopped outside of the doorway and for a moment you daren’t breathe. The door handle rattled gently but when the locked door wouldn’t open, the thud of a heavy boot forced it from its hinges and there in the doorway stood Negan. For a moment he choked; the vile odor of decaying flesh filled his lungs as he forced his way inside the room._

_But then he smiled. “_ Well, fucking, well _. What in the_ fuck _do we fucking have here? Doll, don’t tell me you’re living here. Do you-” He gestured with Lucille to the bodies lying on the bed. “Know these, clearly_ dumb-as-shit _assholes?” There was some combination of humor and concern in his voice as he spoke._

_You swallowed hard, “No. Fuck, no. I’m just, passing through.”_

_“I’m gonna be honest, you look like shit. When’s the last time you ate anything?” He shifted from one foot to another; this stranger, staring at you as though genuinely concerned. You stayed silent. “You on your own? I mean, you got any people?”_

_You shook your head and he walked toward you, holding out his hand; Lucille resting over his shoulder._

_“Please, just-” You curled into the corner like frightened animal._

_“Shh,” He soothed, crouching in front of you. “I know you’re not going to, but you should trust me. I won’t fucking hurt you. I’m Negan. My Saviors protect people. We keep people safe.” He huffed and ran a hand over his beard, waiting for you to make the sensible decision and accept his offer._

_\---_

_You’d spent your first few days at The Sanctuary under the watch of Doctor Carson. He’d assured you were fine, but Negan insisted on being cautious and kept you under watch for 48 hours. He’d visited frequently, and made it undeniably clear he liked you when he proposed the idea of you becoming his wife. At first you were, understandably, opposed to the idea. But when you considered your other options – and the glaring realization that for reasons unknown, you kind of liked him, too – it didn’t end up taking all that much convincing, and less than a week passed before Negan managed to talk you into his bed for the first time._

_You’d been at The Sanctuary a little over a week when you were first introduced to Simon. You were sitting outside with Frankie – who you’d developed an instant friendship with – watching the workers in the gardens when Simon happened to wander past. He caught your eye instantly; his athletic frame, the way he carried himself with a confidence. But more than anything it was the smile he shot you as he strode toward you that was so captivating._

_“Hey, Simon.” Frankie smiled politely as he neared you._

_“Frankie.” He nodded, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. You smiled nervously._

_“Simon, I’m not sure you’ve met Negan’s new favorite plaything.” She chuckled as she introduced you._

_“I’m Simon.” He held out his hand. “I can see why you’re the new favorite.” He raised his eyebrows and as you took his hand, you felt an unfamiliar spark somewhere deep inside you, catching you off guard and causing you to hold onto him for longer than was probably necessary. You hoped Frankie hadn’t noticed._

_“Nice to meet you, Simon.” You smiled up at him as he stepped backwards with his eyes still locked on yours._

_“Likewise… Look I’d love to stay and chat. But I’m kinda busy. I’ll uh, I’ll see you around!” He smiled again before turning to walk away, and you hoped he meant it when he said he’d see you around._

_“Are you looking at his ass?” Frankie whispered, stifling a laugh._

_“_ What? _” You would’ve turned to stare at Frankie in disbelief, if it weren’t for the fact you_ were _staring at his ass._

_\---_

_It was two weeks later when you found yourself pressed up against the wall of Simon’s room; your hands exploring one another’s bodies desperately and passionately for the first time._

_“Shit,” He groaned between kisses. “We shouldn’t be – doing this.”_

_You grinned against his mouth. “You want – to stop?”_

_“Didn’t say that.” He pressed his mouth back to yours and his hands slipped the dress from your shoulders._

_And before either of you could stop yourselves, you were naked and tangled on Simon’s bed. And when he finally began to fuck you – your fingers digging into broad, toned shoulders and his hands grasping firmly at your hips – you knew it couldn’t be a one-time thing. You clung to one another with desperation as his hips rocked into yours and he fucked you until you were screaming his name, and then he pushed himself over the edge and into ecstasy right alongside you._

_Afterwards, breathless and sweating, you knew that whatever you and Simon had was entirely different to whatever you and Negan had. Simon held you, ran his hands along your curves and sent shivers over your body in a way that Negan couldn’t. He kissed your forehead and you slept in his arms when with Negan, it was about nothing but the sex._

_“He can’t know about this.” Simon demanded as you lay beside him._

_“Well I’m not telling him.” You ran your fingers over the defined muscles on his chest and stomach as you stated the obvious._

_“No. I mean, no one can know about this.” He breathed deeply as your hand trailed lower._

_“Okay. Sure.”_

_Without warning, Simon grasped your wrists and pinned you against the bed. “I mean it.” He grinned playfully before placing soft kisses over your neck. “If you don’t want this to be over, no one finds out.”_

* * *

 

“We’re gonna be okay, aren’t we?” You sink down in the seat of Simon’s jeep as he drives away from the Hilltop. You glance in the side view mirror to see Gregory fading out of view. Simon places a strong hand on your thigh and squeezes reassuringly. You look up to find him smiling genuinely at you.

“Hey. We’re gonna be just fine.” He nods.

“Do you think Negan will come looking for us?”

“Yup.” He shrugs. “No doubt about that. Negan doesn’t appreciate people taking off the way we did. Not to mention the _screwing his wife_ and _letting in the dead_. Plus,” He pauses, his head bobbing gently from side to side. “I’m kinda important. I mean sure, he’s got Dwight. But he needs me, and he knows it. Doesn’t mean he’s not gonna be seriously pissed off with the both of us if he catches up.” You stare silently at the dark road ahead. “That’s why we’re getting as far away from The Sanctuary as possible.”

\---

Simon made the decision to travel south, and you’ve spent the last couple days driving. You’re probably half way to Texas by now, and you might have gotten further already, but the extra gas cans Gregory provided you with will only get you so far and Simon has been making frequent stops in an attempt to find more.

He slows as you approach a gas station, and you know the chances of finding gas at a gas station are little to none these days, but there are at least a dozen cars scattered around the area. You climb down from the pickup and close the door gently, listening for any sounds of the dead. Simon draws his knife and you follow suit, treading carefully over the tarmac. Glancing into the windows of the cars as you pass them, you spot a couple of already dead-and-staying-dead corpses.

“Looks like we’re all good.” Simon declares, sliding his knife back into its sheath.

“I’m gonna check out the store.” You decide.

“Okay, but just be careful.” Simon replies and you roll your eyes.

It looks like it’s seen better days, as does every damn place you’ve passed, but there’s always the off chance you’ll find something worthwhile. You keep knife poised and ready, and kick hard at the door.

Silence.

You kick again just to make sure but you’re met with continued silence. You swallow hard, pushing on the door and it opens with a soft creak. It’s dark; the windows have been boarded from the inside and the few shelves still standing are empty. You step further into the store, kicking at dust and debris on the floor and glancing around at the disarray of damaged shelving and empty food packages.

“Stay right where the fuck ya are, darlin’.”

You stop dead in your tracks as a voice commands you from somewhere in the darkness.

“Move a muscle we’ll blow yer head off.” There’s a second voice.

“ _Boom_.” A third voice drifts toward you followed by a low chuckle.

“Shit…” You mutter under your breath. “ _Simon_!” You scream but a rough hand seizes you from behind and covers your mouth. You struggle in the man’s grasp but he’s too strong for you.

“Keep yer pretty fuckin’ mouth shut. Or d’ya want me to gag ya?” The man presses his face close to yours and the stench of his breath is foul as he breathes against your skin. You shake your head no and as he loosens his grip you see Simon appear in the doorway.

“Shit. _Shit_.” His eyes are wide with fury as he stares at the man restraining you. “Get your _fucking hands off of her_!”

“Ya wanna make demands?” The man retorts. “There’s five of us, one of _you_ , and I got yer pretty lady friend _real_ close.” He pulls out a pistol at presses it against your temple. “So if I was you, I’d put the weapons on the ground and do _exactly_ as we fuckin’ tell ya.”

You can see the anger escalating in Simon’s face as he considers his options, but he quickly resigns to the fact he has no option than to do as the men insist, and he reluctantly throws his handgun and knife to the floor.

“Good choice.” The man sneers and a second, much larger man strides past you with a rifle aimed at Simon’s head. He nods as a gesture for Simon to move further into the store toward you, and then stops him.

“Both of ya, on yer fuckin’ knees, _now_.”

Simon stares at you as you drop to your knees. “Look at me,” You’re shaking as he speaks. “Just look at me, _trust me_ , it’s going to be okay. _We’re_ going to be okay.”

There’s a huff of laughter from behind you. “No, asshole, it’s really not gonna be okay."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER WARNING: This chapter contains *attempted (not actual) rape. I don't like spoilers, but it's important I let ya'll know. Feel free to skip the first 5 paragraphs if you need to.  
> Otherwise, enjoy. You won't want to miss the whole chapter I PROMISE YOU THAT.

The restraints slice into your skin as your wrists are bound behind your back with cable ties. The man in charge hauls you to your feet and drags you toward the counter, forcing you over it.  You inhale sharply as your cheek and head collide with the cold, hard surface and it sends a shooting pain through your face.

You can still see Simon knelt on the floor before the largest of the men, whilst the others stand watching. “You touch her,” Simon begins, his eyes narrowed and teeth bared like a vicious animal, “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill every last, _fucking one of you!_ ”

“Ya think that’s what’s gonna happen here?” The man behind you chuckles. “Let’s straighten a few things out. I’m gonna fuck her. And I’m gonna make ya watch.” Simon strains to pull his wrists apart as he glares furiously. “And then my boys are gonna take turns fucking her. And I’m gonna make ya watch that too. I won’t lie,” He leans down close to you, pressing his erection against your ass and your whole body tenses at the thought of his intentions but you try to focus on Simon. “Y’ain’t either of ya gonna enjoy the shit that’s about to go down here. But hey,” He straightens up. “When we’re done, we’re gonna kill the bitch. And _then_ , we’re gonna kill _you_.” Simon thrashes at his restraints but the large man beside him steps in front and raises the rifle to his head. “And the more _bullshit_ threats ya make, the slower I’m gonna kill her.”

Your vision becomes clouded as tears fill your eyes. You blink them away, attempting to keep your gaze fixed on Simon. “Please. Please don’t do this. Just,” you swallow hard. “Let us go and we’ll give you all our supplies. We’ll leave. _Please_.” But you know your pleading isn’t going to help the situation.

“No.” He responds bluntly, placing one hand firmly over the middle of your back as he reaches around to your belt with the other. You struggle against the counter top but his weight bearing down on you prevents you from moving. But before he can do anything else, Simon launches himself headfirst toward the man with the rifle.  
  
And despite the size of the man, Simon is pure muscle and fury and he manages to send him sprawling into a damaged shelving unit and by some dumb luck the man is impaled through the chest by a rogue steel rod. He groans in agony as he stares down at the gaping hole in his torso and the unit collapses around him, creating a deafening crash that is sure to attract any nearby walking corpses.

A gurgled moan escapes him as the man spits blood, and you watch as Simon backs into a corner; the other three men with their weapons raised at him.

“Fuck…” The man above you mutters.

“Give me the word I’ll shoot the fucker.” One of them threatens.

“No. No! He’s gonna see this and then I’m-” His words are cut short by a groaning sound from outside. “Shit. It’s the dead.” He pulls away from you and you glance back to Simon; there’s a smirk on his face that tells you this is the distraction you both need. “ _You_!” The man commands, pointing at one of his men, “Come with me.”

The two of them head to the door, kicking it open and opening fire on the dead. At first there are one or two, but you’re always astounded as to how quickly large herds can accumulate. You listen as the shooting continues, and the two remaining men glance nervously at one another. You look over to Simon, noticing that he is gradually working off the restraints, grinding his wrists against a part of the wreckage he’d caused to cut through them. There’s shouting from outside the building and one of the men gestures for the other to go out and assess what’s going on.

The remaining man glances at you. “Stay where you are. Both of you.” He aims his weapon directly at Simon, who stares back wide eyed and nods slowly in compliance.

The sound of gunfire is soon replaced by the sound of screaming and, in turn, the screaming becomes nothing but the sounds of the dead.

“Hey.” Simon grins widely at the remaining man. “Looks like it’s just you, and us, hm?” He pulls his hands up to show he’s now free from restraint but hesitates to move forward. “We can help you get out of this.” The man swallows hard and glances between Simon and the door. The corpses seem to be wandering outside in no particular direction; which means at least they aren’t trying to get into the store.

“How?” The man asks nervously. And it’s only now you notice he is younger than the others, probably no more than eighteen years old.

“What’s your name?” Simon asks.

The man shifts nervously. “Eddie.”

“Okay, Eddie. If we wait this out – stay quiet – they don’t know we’re in here.” He stands tall and points toward the door. “They can’t pinpoint where the noise came from. And they’re already pretty happy feasting on your dead friends out there.”

“You, you think they’re dead?” He questions.

“Yes.” He nods. “Very, very, extremely, undeniably dead, I’m afraid.” He sighs. “Look. You better put the gun down. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna shoot you, Eddie. That would draw them in on us and we’ll all be corpse chow. No one wants that, right?” He raises an eyebrow.

You glance at the large dead man hanging and impaled on the steel rod beside Simon. And you notice its hand twitch. Eddie glances down at the gun and Simon turns momentarily toward you. He’s noticed the same thing you have.

“Okay.” Eddie responds, slowly lowering the gun.

“That’s it.” Simon encourages. He gradually begins to move away from the corpse and you move in the opposite direction, also managing to put a little distance between you and it.

As it raises its head there’s an angry snarl and the body lunges forward, sliding off of the steel rod, and the first thing it sees is Eddie directly ahead of it.

“Shit…” Eddie backs up, almost too terrified to speak, and pushes back at the incredibly large, lumbering corpse as it reaches out to take a taste him. But he’s no match and its strength and it takes just seconds before it sinks its teeth into his neck and rips at his throat, and you’re fortunate that it prevents him from screaming.

Simon dives forward and slides a knife from Eddie’s belt, jamming it into the back of the corpse’s head. Eddie is bleeding profusely underneath it, staring up at Simon as though pleading for help. “Sorry, Eddie. But you and your friends were assholes, and rapists, and this is what you deserved.” He shrugs his shoulders before ramming the knife into the man’s skull.

He turns back to you, cutting loose your hands before placing the knife onto the counter and pulling you into him; his strong arms holding you tightly against his chest. “Hey, hey you’re okay.” He kisses the top of your head and you bury yourself in him.

For a moment neither of you move, but eventually you have to ask, “What do we do now?”

“We wait.”

 

* * *

 

“Try and sleep.” Simon whispers as you lay wrapped in his arms on the floor of the derelict store.

“Can’t. Too much going bump in the night.” You shrug.

“Hey. You got me to look out for you. You can sleep.” He pulls you closer so you’re half on top of him, your leg wrapped over his as he lies on his back and his arm holding you against him. His other hand runs through your hair as you lie in the darkness listening to the dead shuffling outside. “I’ll always keep you safe.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “I... I think I love you.”

You raise your head and frown at him, and he’s staring at you like he surprised himself with his own statement. “You think?”

“No I… I do. Love you.” He reaffirms.

You stifle a giggle. “You don’t sound too sure, Simon.” You stare at him, trying hard not to smirk at his expression.

“Well shit.” Without warning he flips you onto your back and balances above you; his hair falling wildly about his head. “I love you.” He leans down and kisses you gently; his mustache soft against your skin compared to the 3 days growth of stubble on his chin and jaw. And as his tongue explores your mouth, your hands travel to his belt buckle but he soon reaches a hand down to stop you.

“Hey, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He gazes at you.

“What?” You frown.

“Well, because if I start fucking you now, I don’t think you’ll be able to control yourself…” he loosens his grip on your hands to grab hold of your ass and squeezes gently. “…and I can’t have you screaming my name, alerting them out there to our being in here.” You whimper softly as he caresses your ass and pushes his hips teasingly against yours.

“You don’t think I can keep quiet?” you breathe at him.

“Nope.” He grinds his erection against you and raises an eyebrow.

“Bullshit. Try me.” You stare up at him with pleading eyes.

Simon closes his eyes momentarily and you know the layers of clothing between you are driving him just as crazy as they’re driving you. He breathes deeply. “Okay, have it your way. But if we get eaten alive because of my incredible dick, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You can’t help laughing into his kiss as he leans back down toward you, and doesn’t take long for him to drag your jeans off and unbutton his own pants.

“Remember…” He breathes as he teases your wetness with the tip of his cock, “Keep… _Quiet_.” And with that he drives himself hard into you and you do your best to do as Simon instructed and stay silent.

But he’s not going to make it easy for you.

He starts slowly, falling up and down above you rhythmically. But there’s a look on his face that tells you it won’t last for long, and soon he’s pulling your legs up around his hips and moving harder and faster. You close your eyes; your head rolling back against the hard floor and you have to bite your bottom lip as he fucks you harder still.

And by the time you’re getting close to your release you _know_ that he knows; and he’s got no intention of slowing down for even a second. He leans toward you, placing his mouth by your ear and whispers “Fucking, come, for me.” And his lips are pressed firmly against on yours as you come, each wave more intense than the last as your body jerks beneath his. And if he wasn’t silencing you with his kiss you know you’d find it damn near impossible to not scream his name.

Simon breaks your kiss and groans into your neck as he comes, spilling his release onto you. He hovers over you, breathing heavily.

“Hey, Simon.” You whisper. “I think I love you.” He grins and you giggle as he stares down at you.

“Think you can sleep now?” He teases.

You lay silent for a moment, listening to the sounds of dead – or rather, _lack thereof_. “Wait, Simon. Does it seem kind of, quiet to you?”

He frowns and glances sideways. “Yup.”

Without any warning the door swings open, and a figure steps into the darkened store. “Well ho-ly _shit_. You two love birds will fuck anywhere, huh? _Jesus_ , Simon.”

Simon looks back over his shoulder as he lies above you; his hand still gripping your hips. “Fuck. Negan.”


	10. Chapter 10

“The fuck happened in here?” Negan muses, swinging Lucille casually before him. You attempt to cover yourself as he wanders across the store; Simon rolling away from you and hastily zipping his pants.

“How did you find us?” Simon huffs as he drags himself up to his feet.

“Shit. Don’t stop on my account.” He chuckles and raises an eyebrow at you, avoiding the question entirely.

“Fuck you, Negan.” Simon growls.

“Hey, _watch your fucking language and remember who the fuck you’re talking to_.” Negan’s eyes narrow as he scowls at Simon.

“No. _Fuck, you_. We left The Sanctuary. I don’t work for you anymore.”

“Eighteen, Simon. _Eighteen workers_.”

“What?”

“That’s how many people died because of your shitty fucking stunt, asshole.” Negan stares hard at Simon with a stern look on his face. There’s a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach as you take in Negan’s words. Eighteen people are dead because of you and Simon.

“Doesn’t change anything.” Simon shrugs. Negan continues to stare at him.

“Arat!” Negan barks and the Savior appears in the doorway, aiming her pistol directly at Simon. Simon rolls his eyes. You climb to your feet, now fully clothed, but staying silent so as not to provoke Negan further. “Look, Simon. I’m going to be fucking honest with you,” He points Lucille as he speaks. “ _You,_ are my right-hand man. You are someone I can’t afford to not have around right now. There’s a lot of communities producing for us; a lot of people that need to be kept the fuck in line. Not least of all Rick the prick and his goddamn fucking piss patrol.” He sighs, running his tongue along his bottom lip.

“And you’re gonna take us back, just like that?” Simon places his hands on his hips and grins in disbelief.

“Nope. I’m gonna take you back, you’re gonna face your punishment like a fucking man, and then we’ll be fucking square, Simon. And you can go back to doing whatever the fuck it is that helps that place keep running the way it does.”

“Nope.” Simon chuckles and takes a step toward Negan.

“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” Negan steps up to Simon and the two men are face to face. He raises Lucille to gesture around the store. “This? You choose _this_ over The Sanctuary?” He glances over Simon's shoulder at you as thought awaiting your opinion. “Seriously? Doll this isn’t what you want.”

“What I want is Simon.” You state bluntly, folding your arms across your chest.

“You two want to carry on fucking like rabbits? That’s fine. I’m over it, doll. But an _example_ needs, to be, _made_.” He huffs when you don’t reply. “Simon’s gonna get you killed out here.” He smirks, but before you can reply, Simon pulls his fist back and takes a swing, landing a heavy blow to Negan’s jaw and causing him to double over. Arat – who had otherwise been standing silently awaiting Negan’s orders – darts forward.

“Do that again and I’ll put a bullet in you.” She threatens Simon.

“Hey, _hey_! Arat, back the fuck off.” Negan orders, spitting blood at the ground. He straightens up and stares coldly at Simon. “You have two choices. Either you come back with me, willingly, or I have Arat _shoot you_ and I _drag_ your sorry ass back to The-fucking-Sanctuary.”

Simon takes a few steps back and then turns to you, expelling a soft laugh. “We’re leaving.” He declares, holding his hand out to you.

But it only takes a split second and Arat fires a shot directly at Simon. He falls forward with a sharp cry, landing on his hands and knees.

“What the _fuck_ , Negan?” You yell, dropping to your knees beside Simon.

“Fuck, _fuck_! You shot me in the _fucking leg_!” He rolls sideways clutching his left thigh as blood seeps through his pants. You glare at Negan as Simon swears on the floor beside you.

“Looks like you need a doctor.” Negan chuckles before turning and strolling out of the door, whistling his familiar whistle as he leaves.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Simon nods with a pained grin on his face and you aren’t sure if he’s serious or not.

Arat strolls over to you and bends down to pull Simon’s arm over her shoulder. “You’re gonna have to help.” She glances at you and you glare in response. “Look I’m sorry, bosses orders.” You let out an irritated sigh. “Okay he’s twice my fucking size are you gonna help me or not?” You nod, wrapping Simon's other arm over your own shoulder and between three of you, Simon is on his feet. He pulls away from Arat once he’s standing, gritting his teeth as more blood trickles from the bullet wound.

“I’m okay. I can walk.” But you refuse to let go of him.

Once outside, Simon staggers to Negan’s truck. You hate that Negan is right; Simon needs a doctor, and the only place you’re going to find one of those is back at The Sanctuary. You can’t take the risk of infection or the possibility he’ll bleed out without proper treatment.

Between Arat and yourself you manage to support Simon as he drags himself into the rear of the truck and throws himself on his back. You climb in next to him and Arat follows. You’d never been a fan of Arat but now you were even less fond of her.

“I’ve gotta stop the bleeding.” She mutters, applying pressure to gaping hole in Simon thigh. He grits his teeth again, closing his eyes. You kneel beside him and take his hand in yours. You squeeze gently and he opens his eyes again, staring up at you and you’re trying hard not to allow tears to form in your eyes.

“Hey. It’s alright.” He attempts to smile despite the bullet wound probably hurting like Hell.

“Yeah, if you don’t bleed out in the time it’s gonna take to get back to The Sanctuary.”

“Shit.” He stares wide eyed at you. “At least _try_ and stay positive?”

 

* * *

 

The journey back to The Sanctuary took two days and you spent the entirety of it beside Simon. Fortunately the bleeding was under control but Simon was in enough pain he couldn’t move. Negan and Arat took turns driving so you’d barely made a single stop on the journey. When you finally arrived, Negan called for two of his Saviors to take Simon to Doctor Carson.

“Have Carson fix him up. And give him a heads up I’m then gonna need his expertise on the factory floor. Simon’s gonna learn his damn lesson.” He grins almost cheerfully as he turns to Dwight. “Dwight, go get my fucking iron ready.”

“No. _No_!” You demand, taking hold of Negan’s arm. Dwight ignores your protesting and heads inside, leaving you alone with Negan beside his truck.

“I’m sorry,” Negan grins as he turns to face you, leaning back against the side of the truck. “But I think I made myself quite clear and _rules_ are _rules_.” He raises his eyebrows and his tongue grazes over his lips as he smiles at you with a complete absence of empathy.

You take a deep breath and step up toward Negan. “Please. You already put a bullet in him-”

“ _Simon. Broke. The rules_! He knew what the consequences would be when he decided stick his dick in you and _you, knew, too_. Now, I have an iron, and I have Lucille.” He points at the bat. “And I can assure you he will _not_ survive the second option.” He pauses. “Of course, there might be a third option.” His eyes are heavy and they trail over you as you stand before him.

“No. I won’t be your wife again.” You shift uncomfortably.

“Fuck, doll. That wasn’t the offer. I don’t trust either of you enough for that.”

“Then what?”

“One night.” You stare at him. “You spend the night with me, I’ll reconsider Simon’s punishment.”

The thought of sleeping with Negan without Simon knowing, makes your stomach churn. Before it was different; before you were Negan’s property and Simon knew you had no choice.

“I’m gonna get something to eat. And then I’m gonna take a shower.” He pauses, briefly. “And I expect to see you at my door in an hour.”

 

* * *

 

You’d considered visiting the infirmary to find Simon before taking Negan up on his offer, but decided you couldn’t face him and opted to head for the showers instead. Now you stand on the outside of Negan’s door, debating with yourself whether this really is your only option. Because you know the sole reason Negan is offering you this opportunity is because he wants to hurt Simon. But if it means he won’t be physically harmed then you’re willing to do whatever it takes.

You take a breath and knock on the door. It doesn’t take long for Negan to open it. Before you’ve even stepped foot in his room you feel the need to clarify exactly what this is. “Wait. If I do this, you’ll leave Simon alone? And you’ll leave me alone?”

“If you do this, I promise not to iron, Simon’s, face.” He huffs out a soft laugh before running his thumb along your jaw and lifting your face to his, pressing himself closer to you. And then he bends down, placing his lips on yours and it’s now you realize he’s clean shaven for the first time in a while; his skin smooth against yours and he smells like fresh water and shaving cream.

You kiss him back, bringing your hand to his face and running your fingers over his smooth cheek and jaw. Negan runs his hands through your hair to the back of your head, pulling you into the room and closing the door behind you. He pulls away, dragging his white shirt up over his head and you can’t deny how good he smells as he moves closer to you again before removing your own shirt.

And you try to ignore the guilt building inside as you enjoy the feel of Negan’s hands running over your body and caressing your breasts. He kisses you again as he unbuttons your jeans and guides you backwards. You kick off the jeans and your underwear as he pushes you onto the bed, pinning you down with his weight.

Soon his kisses are trailing gradually lower, his tongue exploring all the parts of your body that you know should be reserved for Simon alone.

“I can’t do this.” You breathe at Negan.

He looks up from between your thighs then dips his finger slowly inside of you. You tense at the feel of him curling inside and he smirks. “That’s not what your pussy tells me, doll.” Negan continues to work his finger in and out before adding a second digit. “Don’t forget, you’re only doing this for him. But…” He slides himself back out and stares up at you. “If you want me to stop, I can have Dwight drag Simon’s sorry, limping ass out of the infirmary and down to the furnace.”

“No, don’t,” You surrender. “Don’t stop.”

“I’m not forcing you to do this.”

“I know.” You close your eyes, not only because you don’t want to see the look of satisfaction on Negan’s face as he manages to wield such power over you, but also because you don’t want him to see the tears forming in your eyes.

You lay back against the bed as Negan works his tongue over you in all the ways he knows will drive you crazy. You grasp at the satin bed sheets, foolishly determined he won’t make you come but fighting the sensation is futile. You close your eyes, attempting to picture Simon as you fail to hold back any longer and Negan manages to elicit a loud moan from you as he makes you come.

“Fuck, girl, I can tell you really meant that.” He chuckles arrogantly. “I’m willing to bet you were thinking about Simon though.” You open your eyes and stare at him as you try to catch your breath. “It’s okay,” He grins as he stands to unbuckle his belt and push down his pants and boxers, before holding out his hand to you. You take his hand and he pulls you up off the bed to stand in front of him. “Think about Simon while you’re sucking my dick. I won’t mind.”

You shake your head. “No, Negan.”

“What, is my dick too big to compare?” He grins.

“Simon is twice the man you are. Simon actually gives a shit about me. You? You’re just some asshole who thinks he’s God’s gift.” You stare coldly at Negan, pleased with yourself as you witness the smug smirk on his face slowly disappearing.

But his amused expression is quickly replaced with one of fury, and without warning Negan spins you around and pushes you face first toward the bed. He presses his cock against you and in one fluid motion slides himself inside you to the hilt with no intention to take this slowly. His thrusts come rough and fast as he fucks you, paying no attention to your cries of combined pain and pleasure. And when he comes, he comes hard and deep inside you with a satisfied grunt.

“Hey.” He mutters, dropping onto the bed beside you and wiping your face with his thumb. “I don’t know why you’re crying. You wanted this.” And he places a delicate kiss on your forehead. “We got the whole, damn, night, doll. I’m not gonna keep fucking you if you’re gonna react like that.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper. “I want this.”

 

* * *

 

By the time morning arrives you’re exhausted and aching; Negan has an impressive stamina, but you’re certain his determination is quite deliberate this time, and his way of proving a point; even when you’re Simon’s, you _still_ belong to Negan; and the bruises and bite marks spanning your body, though all voluntarily received, serve as a painful reminder of this.

You climb out of Negan’s bed, gathering up your clothes and dressing as quickly as you can while he speaks outside with Dwight. When he re-enters the room, you’re perched on the edge of his bed.

You stare down at the floor. “So, how did you find us?” The question had been playing on your mind.

Negan frowns. “Simon is my right-hand man. I know how he thinks. What he’d do, where he’d go. It wasn’t fucking difficult.” You nod, realizing you should have known Negan would catch up sooner or later.

“So, can I see him now?”

“Nope.” Your heart drops.

“But you said-”

“I said I wouldn’t use the iron. And I haven’t. I didn’t say he wouldn’t be punished. There, are, _rules_.” You don’t reply. “Simon is taking a little time out away from everybody. A little, solitary time to reflect on the dumb as shit choices he’s been making recently.” You swallow hard as you realize what he means.

Negan has Simon locked in a cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope Negan didn't come across too "rape-y" in this chapter. I just wanted him to be a real asshole.  
> Thanks as ever for all the awesome comments, kudos and feedback, I love you guys!


	11. Chapter 11

After leaving Negan’s room you found yourself heading back down to the factory floor, not really knowing where else to go. You’d fallen back into the routine of working as a dish washer in the kitchen, although seemingly to the disapproval of the other workers. No one wanted to talk to you; word travels fast around The Sanctuary and there wasn’t anyone who didn’t know about you and Simon, and they knew it was because of you both that eighteen of their fellow workers had been killed.

“You got balls.” One of the women in the kitchen mutters.

“What?” You glance up from your work and glare at her.

“Cheating on Negan? Not only are you incredibly brave – or stupid, I’m not sure which – but why would you give up everything he can offer for _Simon?_ ”

“It’s none of your damn business.” You assert bluntly, throwing down the metal serving tray you’d been cleaning a little more enthusiastically than is necessary.

She huffs out an irritating laugh and rolls her eyes sarcastically. “Okay, I was just making conversation.”

“Well don’t.” You turn your back to her.

You attempt to compose yourself, taking a deep breath before picking up the tray to resume cleaning. But after a minute she speaks again. “Where is Simon anyway? No one’s seen him. I heard something about him being shot.”

“ _Shut. Up_.” You speak through gritted teeth.

“It’s the least he deserves after what you did.”

That’s it. That’s the last you can take and you throw the tray back down and clench your fists, launching yourself at the woman beside you and hitting her square in the jaw.

She cries out as she tumbles backward into the metal counter top and you dive on top of her, pinning her to the ground. You know this is wrong; you know she’s right and it’s entirely your fault so many people have died. You know she has the right to be angry with you and Simon but you don’t care. You’re angry with Negan and you’re taking your anger out on _her_ , just because.

You hit her again, and a third time before someone drags you away.

“Fuck. _Fuck!_ ” You scream. Thrashing your arms and pulling away from whoever has hold of you.

“Calm the hell down. Now.” Looking up you see Dwight. He shakes his head in disbelief.

Breathing heavily you glance across the kitchen at the woman you’d lost your temper with. Other workers are helping her to her feet as she wipes blood from her mouth. “I… I’m sorry, I-” You look back to Dwight and he holds out his hand to help you up. You lean back against the counter and run a hand through your hair and you’re suddenly very aware of the silence that has fallen around you as multiple sets of eyes stare at you.

“Take a break.” Dwight instructs, leading you out of the kitchen. As you reach the door he turns back to address the other workers. “ _Anyone,_ starts _anything,_ Negan is gonna know about it. Get back to work.” He commands, before leading you outside.

Once in the open, Dwight pulls out a cigarette and lights it. He takes a long drag and then offers it to you.

“No, thanks.” You shake your head.

He shrugs. “You can’t do that, you know. Negan ain’t gonna be too happy to hear you’re starting fights.”

“She pissed me off.” You fold your arms over your chest; it’s still cold, despite the warmer weather beginning to set in.

Dwight chuckles. “No shit…” He takes another drag on his cigarette.

“Is Simon okay?” You question Dwight; certain he would have seen him.

“He’s doing okay.” Dwight nods, gazing at the ground.

“How long is Negan gonna keep him in a cell?” You take a deep breath.

“I don’t know.” He says honestly. “A few days… A week tops. He needs Simon to do his job. Negan’s an asshole but he’s not stupid.”

“Can I see him?”

Dwight stares at you and sighs. “Nope.”

You swallow hard, feeling defeated. “Why not?”

“Because Negan doesn’t want you to see him.”

You roll your eyes, knowing it’s no use arguing with Dwight. “Whatever. I gotta go.”

 

* * *

 

“I hate him.” You insist, kicking at dirt on the ground outside. “I hate him I hate him I hate him.”

“No you don’t.” Frankie rolls her eyes.

“No, you’re right. Hate is not a strong enough word.” You growl. “Why did I trust him? Why did I let Negan do… What he did to me?” You look at Frankie like she might have an answer.

“Don’t blame yourself.”

“Who said I was blaming myself? I’m blaming Negan.”

“Look… I’m just saying. Negan has a way with people, women especially. He wouldn’t have so many wives if he didn’t.” Frankie takes your hand in hers.

“You know a part of me – a really small part of me – wanted him. How fucked up is that? I love Simon. I do, _really_ love him. And I did what I did for him. But I hate the way Negan makes me feel.” You pull your hand away from Frankie’s to furiously wipe at the tears collecting at the corners of your eyes.

“Have you seen him?”

“No. I spoke to Dwight but no.”

“Let me speak to Sherry-”

“No. Don’t drag her into this.”

“She can speak to Dwight.”

“You really think she’ll change his mind?” You gaze hopefully at Frankie.

“Dwight would do anything for her. Let me at least try.”

 

* * *

 

You linger on the outside of the cell; _‘dipshit training centre’_ is scrawled on a piece of tape and stuck to the door. Dwight watches you for a moment.

“Thanks for doing this. I know you’re not meant to.”

“You got five minutes.” Dwight mutters, sliding the key into the lock and pushing open the door. As it falls open, he takes a couple steps back and leans against the wall, allowing you into the confined space.

On the floor is Simon; propped up against the wall and looking like nothing short of absolute Hell. He’s in his boxers and grey vest; leg bandaged from the bullet wound. He narrows his eyes as the light hits them.

“Simon.” Your voice is barely a whisper as you drop to your knees beside him and place your head on his chest. He wraps an arm around you, and for a good few minutes all you can do is hold one another. It’s not until your silent tears begin to dampen Simon’s chest that he speaks.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. I’m okay.” He attempts to convince you.

“Bullshit.” You mutter, pressing your forehead against his.

“Look at me.” He runs his hand through your hair and you stare into his eyes. “Are you okay?” You drop your gaze from his and nod. “I mean it, if Negan laid a hand on you-”

“No.” You lie. “He didn’t.”

He lowers his head in attempt to catch your eyes again. “I’ll be out of here soon. That’s a promise. Everything’ll go back to being copacetic. I’ll be working for Negan; you’ll be by my side, hm?” He smiles.

“Okay.” You nod.

“Okay.” Simon reiterates.

“Time’s up.” Dwight interrupts; his shadow looming over you.

Simon holds onto you for a moment longer, lifting his lips to yours and kissing you gently. You linger, not wanting to leave him. But eventually you drag yourself to your feet, exiting the cell and watching as Dwight closes the door on Simon. You turn to leave but Dwight catches your arm, “Hey. It won’t be much longer.” He nods, reassuringly.

 

* * *

 

Your days spent in the kitchens were exhausting and dragged on for what seemed like forever. All you could think about was Simon; was he okay? When would Negan let him go? You’d seen Negan twice in the past week; the first time he’d shot you a suggestive smirk and the second, he’d simply ignored you. If you’d thought you could speak to him without smacking him in the face you might have asked about Simon. But not only did you not want to risk fighting the desperate urge to hit him, you also didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt you that he’d had Simon locked up.

“Get up.”

You roll over on your uncomfortable cot bed, taking little notice of the voice.

“ _Get. Up_.”

You begin to stir. “Ugh.” You squint in the darkness, glancing at the windows. “My shift isn’t ‘til morning.” You mumble.

“ _Wrong._ ”

“What?” You force your eyes open and the tall figure before you causes you to sit bolt upright.

“Your shift is cancelled.”

“ _Simon?_ ” You whisper, and there’s enough light in the room you can see he’s smiling widely.

“You don’t, _really_ want to stay here, do you?” He questions with a raise of his eyebrows. You grin, kicking off the blanket and standing up, and you throw your arms around him hard enough he stumbles back a little. “Ah, shit, careful. Leg.”

“Shit… Sorry.” You mutter, letting go of him.

He chuckles and grasps your hand, pulling back the makeshift curtains that separate the workers’ sleeping areas. He leads you to the exit – albeit limping a little from his bullet wound – and down the corridor toward the nearest staircase.

“When did he let you go?” You question.

“A couple hours ago. I had to eat. Shower. Visit Carson. Listen to Negan run his mouth at me.” His head bobs from side to side. “Then I went to find you.” He pauses as you reach his room and places a large, warm hand against your cheek. “This is it.” He smiles. “No more running around behind Negan’s back. No more hiding. No more _lies_. You’re mine. You’re staying with me. And y’aint going back to the factory floor.” It’s impossible to wipe the grin from your face as he pushes open the door and gestures for you to step inside; and he follows, locking the door behind you.

Taking both of your hands in his, Simon wanders backwards until he hits the bed and lies back against it, guiding you on top of him. You’re careful to mind his injured thigh as you sit with your legs either side of his. “I missed this.” He admits with a smile. “I know it’s only been a couple weeks since we were here-”

But you lean down, silencing Simon with a kiss. He wraps his arms tightly around you and kisses you back; deeply and with a hunger that suggests despite being clearly exhausted, he wants more than just a kiss. “I missed this too.” You manage to whisper, eventually breaking away from his lips and burying your face in his neck.

After a short while you roll off of Simon, but he refuses to let you go, pulling you against him so you’re resting on your side, pressed against his warm body. Your fingers trail over his chest and stomach, and over the thick gray-white hairs adorning his face. “You gonna shave this?” You tease, staring up at him.

Simon runs a hand over what is fast becoming an impressive beard. “You don’t like it? I was thinking of keeping it. Kinda… Rugged.” He chuckles. “I’m kidding. It’s going first thing in the AM.” He closes his eyes and you do the same, gradually drifting into what is the probably the deepest sleep you’ve achieved in months.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I _finally_ got done with this chapter. It's taken a while, I lost my muse.  
>  Hope you all enjoy this one...

Early morning sunlight streams in through the high window panes of the room, causing you to squint as you blink open your eyes. You take in your surroundings, finding you can’t fight the smile that creeps onto your lips as you remember where you are.

Simon lies still behind you; his heavy arm is draped over your waist and your back presses against his warm body. You can feel his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. You run your hand along his forearm; the dark hairs coarse beneath your fingertips and he takes a slow, deep breath and nuzzles his face against your neck.

You’d both slept in your clothes last night, too exhausted from the past week’s events to do anything besides sleep in each other’s arms as soon as Simon had gotten you back to his room. “Mm… Good morning…” His words are barely audible as he peppers soft kisses along your shoulder and shifts himself closer.

You close your eyes again, enjoying the feel of Simon’s hand drifting gradually down your body to your hips. His intentions are quite obvious when he runs his hand over your stomach and dips his fingers briefly below the waistline of your jeans.

And then he places more kisses on your neck; his teeth grazing your skin as he works loose the button of your jeans with little effort and drags them down. You turn your head, locking eyes with Simon and watching him silently for a moment, before catching his lips with yours. He kisses you slowly; softly. It’s the kind of kiss that takes your breath away and alludes to just how desperately the two of you have missed one another. Raking your hand through his hair, you pull him into a deeper kiss and he gladly accepts; his tongue seeking yours in an embrace that leaves you fighting for air.

But a gasp escapes you as Simon’s fingers stroke between your thighs. He runs his fingers over you repeatedly, teasing; eliciting soft moans and pressing his – still clothed – erection against your ass. You grind against him, desperate to feel more of him, and just when you feel like demanding he fucks you, he sinks a finger deep inside you.

You whimper against his mouth as his lips lock with yours once more and he drives his finger slowly in and out of you, before eventually adding another. But Simon soon breaks his kiss, and you’re certain it’s because he enjoys hearing the moans he elicits from you as he thrusts his thick digits harder inside you – and you also know he isn’t worried anymore about anyone hearing the two of you together.

“Simon,” Your words are no more than a whisper. “I – need…” But Simon knows exactly what you need; smirking at you as he pulls away his fingers, and sucking them into his mouth before unfastening his pants.

“Mm,” He breathes, “I know, I’m right here.” He assures, shifting beside you as he presses his hard and ready cock against you, lifting your leg gently over his – still very aware of the fact it’s only been just over a week since he was shot in the thigh. And then he’s inside you in one long, slow stroke, filling you completely.

You find yourself gripping the bed sheets as Simon fucks you, gasping with each mercilessly slow thrust of his hips; your walls clenching around his impossibly thick cock as he brings you dangerously close to the release you crave. His hand moves to find yours and he weaves his fingers between your own, holding you tightly; his face buried in your neck and his mustache – along with the now accompanying beard – grazing softly on your skin.

“Shit. _I’m so close_.” He mumbles into your ear. But you don’t have chance to respond as he pushes you over the edge and you come, hard; your back arching against Simon’s solid body. And as your muscles clench around him you know Simon has reached his own release, too.

And you aren’t sure if it’s intentional or if Simon has found it impossible to control himself this time, because he makes no effort to pull out; instead coming deep inside you, filling you with his hot release and expelling a low groan and an “ _Oh, fuck_.” as he does so.

“Simon,” You mutter, as you eventually catch your breath.

“Fuck. I know.” He responds, not yet moving away from you. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles, and as he pulls away you roll onto your back, turning to look at him. He bites his bottom lip and raises an eyebrow, “Couldn’t help myself.”

You shake your head and swallow hard. “Just, try and be more careful, Simon. Just because Negan is out of the equation doesn’t mean-”

“ _I know_.” He interrupts. “That’s the last thing I want, too.”

You frown; suddenly feeling offended by Simon insinuating that the _last_ thing he wants is to get you pregnant. You settle on putting the thought out of your head.

Simon rolls onto his back and fastens his pants before sitting up and running a hand through his wild mess of hair in an attempt to smooth it down. He glances at the clock on the opposite wall and then back at you as you fasten your jeans. “Might as well grab some breakfast… I got a few hours.” Simon informs you.

“A few hours until?”

“I’m headed out. Supply run to Hilltop. Yup, Negan wants me right back in the game.”

“You saw him last night?”

“Sure. He had a few, _choice_ words…” Simon chews on his bottom lip as he recalls the conversation. “Threatened if I, or more specifically, _we_ , pull anything like the shit show we pulled before, _again_ … He’ll kill us both.”

“So what, we just carry on like nothing happened?” You sit up and face Simon.

“What’s done is done. Water under the bridge. Fact is, Negan needs me, and we need this place to survive." Simon stares hard at you and you know he’s right; He would do anything to keep you safe and being out _there_ would be anything but.

You can’t understand Simon’s sudden change of perspective, mind you. “He tried to iron your face, shot you in the leg, dragged us both back here against our will and locked you in a cell for a week.” You contend.

“And I fucked his wife behind his back, and then left this place and everyone in it to the mercy of the _not-quite-fucking-dead,_ so that _we_ could make our escape.” He huffs. “We’re two for two.” He takes a deep breath. “We’re square.” He places a hand on your thigh. “I got you. Here. _With me_.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “This is what we wanted, hmm?” You nod, attempting to push away the guilt that resides for what you’d done with Negan; even though it _had_ been for Simon’s sake.

You smile at Simon and he leans toward you, placing a firm kiss on your lips. “Let’s get up. Shower, have breakfast…” He hovers in front of you, running a hand over the grey-white beard he’s developed over the past couple of weeks. “This is going. Makes me look like I plan to settle in as a fucking potato farmer at the Hilltop…” He grimaces with another raise of his eyebrow before climbing off the bed and heading toward his bathroom. _Your bathroom_ , you have to remind yourself; the reality of actually living with Simon not having quite sunk in yet.

 

* * *

 

“People got some sort ‘a _problem_ , I should hope they got the balls _to say it_.” Simon declares, far louder than seems necessary. You sink down at the table as you attempt to eat breakfast; conscious of the many eyes staring at you and the hushed whispers as the factory workers discuss what you don’t doubt is their dislike of both yourself and Simon. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Simon; who simply exchanged death-glares with anyone who so much as glanced at the pair of you.

A gradual silence falls across the room and you look up to find Negan strolling across the room; Lucille swinging at his side. Everyone drops to their knees and you do the same. Simon follows behind you as the familiar combat boots stop directly in front of you.

“Simon. Get the fuck up.” He drawls. “You too, doll.” You look up and climb back to your feet, drawing face to face with Negan and his arrogant smile. “ _As you were_.” He instructs the rest of the room. “I see you two are the fucking king and queen of the goddamn popularity contest.” He chuckles. “Don’t you worry, Simon, these people have a problem with you, they have a problem with me. And that’ll be a _big, fucking, problem_.” He glances around the room, swinging Lucille onto his shoulder; a reminder to everyone in the vicinity not to piss him off.

“Negan.” Simon greets him with a nod. You simply scowl at the leather-clad asshole before you. Negan smirks.

“I’m surprised to see you two up and about so early.” He traces his lower lip with his tongue and trails his gaze over you, raising his eyebrows. “Thought you’d be taking the opportunity to screw each other’s fucking brains out.” He turns to Simon. “Or that leg causing you problems, Simon?”

You look at Simon and he narrows his eyes, standing tall and unthreatened by Negan. “Leg’s good, actually. Don’t you worry, Negan, everything is _just, peachy_.” He grins.

“Well, I don’t wanna keep you, you got a busy day, huh Simon?” Simon doesn’t answer. “Yeah, you do, and doll,” He turns to you, placing his fingers under your chin and lifting your face to his “You need anything while Simon’s not around… _Anything_ , you don’t hesitate to ask me.” You swallow hard as he smiles and turns his back on you before walking away, whistling to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, I'm trying really hard to not give up on this fic. I just can't find the motivation to keep going with it but if ya'll are still enjoying it please _please_ leave me a comment to let me know what you think. Any thoughts. I'm open to everything you guys have to say!  
>  Thanks for reading!


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